#THAT drawing scene but make it the blood troth

[apicelladonna]

*taps mic*

Young Grindeldore! Titanic AU.

Albus Dumbledore is accompanied by his mother and sister to be wed to the Graves family in America. Meets by chance the stowaway Gellert Grindelwald, you know how this goes.

[magicblooms]

“I have indeed been here almost all evening, although I must confess that I have not been following you and eavesdropping on your every conversation.” Gellert laughed softly. He had been watching Albus being paraded about by the fools Travers and as tempting as it had been to interrupt, he had refrained. He didn’t want to draw attention to himself, even if he was in disguise. “But you should have kept the hat on. It really did complete the outfit. Not that you don’t look stunning without it.” It was nothing like what Albus usually wore, always preferred those muted colours of greys and black. The blue brought out the colour of his eyes and the cloak was befitting a wizard as powerful as Albus was. “You should dress like this more often. It suits you.” Of course the wizard before him spent most of his days hiding away at Hogwarts, buried away with marking first years papers. He was wasted in that school, but he couldn’t entirely begrudge him something he claimed he desired. It was why he had never made a move against the school and he never would. Even before Albus had started to move against him, he had been determined to protect the peace Albus had clearly found at his old school. While he had always known that Albus could be a threat, he still hadn’t made a move against him until Albus had sent his little pets out to destroy his plans. This was a complication that he didn’t want or need but he knew Albus wasn’t going to stop, anymore than he would end his revolution. Gellert made no move from his position behind Albus, noting that the other man didn’t try to turn around. He wondered if it made it easier for Albus to speak with him without having to see him. Certainly this was the most pleasant conversation they’d had in quite some time and Gellert was in no rush to see it end before necessary. He knew Albus was unwell, slowly poisoned by the troth that was wrapped around this wrist. He had offered assistance already but that had been brutally rejected so he wouldn't offer again. Still, he did not wish to see Albus like this. Suffering so unnecessarily. He wanted to destroy the troth solely for the purpose of moving against him. The man so desperately clung to his own sense of self righteousness even to the point to complete self destruction. It was foolish and dangerous and infuriating and perhaps what was most frustrating was his own continued feelings for Albus that refused to yield. 

He laughed softly as Albus told him that he was on his own. He had expected nothing less, although he had assumed that Albus would have aided in his capture. Perhaps there was indeed hope for him, or Albus was simply finding a way to dodge the responsibility of his imagined imprisonment. Either way, he wasn’t displeased with his answer. “Well then, let us all hope that no one suspects just who is walking amongst them this evening.” He’d been extremely careful and he wasn’t here to create a scene. He should be able to slip out, unnoticed for he was certain that Albus wasn’t going to divulge his attendance to anyone.

He felt slight disappointment when Albus didn’t ask for anything after he offered to make it up to him. He had been expecting the man to tell him to leave the party and he would have considered complying had that been the request. He couldn’t help the smile that stretched across his lips as Albus was quick to offer his forgiveness.

“No, I didn’t come here for the sole purpose of seeing you this evening. That was simply a delightful bonus.” Gellert laughed softly at Albus’ next questions. “An assassination? Do you think I regularly interrupt parties with a celebratory murder?” He had spilled blood before, they both knew that. But he preferred to keep the blood shed to a minimum. There was little need to harm people when there were so many ways around them. Revolutions could never be successful without sacrifices. “If I was going to kill someone Albus, it certainly wouldn’t be with an audience." Although, the offer is still on the table if you’d like me to take Travers out. He’s investigating me, it would make sense strategically and no one would ever suspect you could be involved.” His tone was light and teasing, not wanting this conversation to become too heavy. He knew that would end their light banter immediately.

He paused at Albus’ final question, a slight frown darkening his features. Is that what he truly thought? That he might have come here to eliminate him? He didn’t stop himself from reaching out, touching the small of his back. “Eliminate you?” Gellert asked him quietly. “Is that really what you think I might have come here to do?” Did Albus think so little of him or did he still not truly understand his feelings toward him? It would have been much easier to loathe the man and yet the thought of harming even one hair on his head….. “No Albus, I did not come here to kill you.” 

Gellert had been expecting a vicious snarl back at him, for daring to come so close to him uninvited. It was a delightful surprise to hear the hint of concern in Albus’ voice as he pointed out that he couldn’t fight all of the Ministries workers downstairs. He wouldn’t ruin the moment by pointing out his hypocrisy since he was helping those same workers in trying to take him down. Perhaps there was still hope somewhere that Albus could come to their side, but he wasn’t going to push that here tonight. It would only make Albus close up and run away again and he wanted to take advantage of what appeared to be a brief reprieve in their animosity. Perhaps it was the troth that was changing the tide between them, working it’s magic to draw the two together again. “Yes, ravishing.” Gellert confirmed, not pulling back just yet. It had been a long time since they’d been this close to one another. A simple tilt of his head and he could press kisses along the exposed skin along Albus’ collar. He could easily run a hand along his back, ending up at his hip. It would be easy to tug him back so Albus was pressed against him. Would he allow him such intimacy tonight? His husband was always snapping and snarling at him for so much as daring to appear before him. But he hadn’t missed the shiver that went through Albus’ body as he drew closer, noting the way he fisted his palms as if trying to keep a hold on his control. “Have the other guests not told you so already?” He could have only imagined how frightfully dull their conversations would have been, when they should have been genuflecting before a wizard as great as Albus Dumbledore.

“You sound worried about me getting caught.” It wasn’t a question, for there could be no mistaking Albus’ tone. “Would you help me make a quick getaway if they were to see through the spell?” He teased him lightly, knowing that Albus was more likely to help them capture him. Things were so complicated between them. What had once appeared black and white had faded into countless shades of grey. Gellert couldn’t help but wonder if Albus was more hopeful of his capture so the pressure was off him from performing like a trained Demguise. He had wanted to make the Ministries back away from Albus, especially Travers, but Albus had long told him to keep out of it and so, he had abided by that.

He wasn’t concerned about being captured tonight. No one had picked up on the spell he had cast and besides, he wasn’t here alone. It was too risky for him to attend such an event without back up and he wasn’t here only to see Albus. That was simply a wonderful benefit for his efforts here this evening. He couldn’t say that he didn’t enjoy seeing him, even if their meetings always ended poorly. Perhaps this one would end better.

Was it the troth that was having an effect on Albus’ mood? He couldn’t help but wonder if it was still affecting his body and mind. He had been worried about him but Albus had left no room for argument when he had told Gellert not to return after their last meeting. But he couldn’t ignore just how open Albus’ mind had been to him tonight. Even when they had been closer all those years ago, his mind had been closed off to anyone that he didn’t want. Albus had always had powerful occlumency skills that rivalled his own.  Had his mind just been open to him or could anyone have gotten inside? As much as he loathed the ones downstairs, there were some powerful witches and wizards amongst them.

Was he still trying to break the troth? Of course he was, which was only doing harm to himself. There was no magic, no potion, no curse that could shatter what they’d made. They’d been children but powerful ones and their research skills had known no bounds even back then. They’d been so painstakingly careful when casting the blood magic and it could not be undone. Gellert had no interest in destroying their bond but he knew Albus could not be dissuaded in his attempts.

Had he brought it here this evening? A bold move but then he likely wouldn’t have left it anywhere else. It wasn’t around his neck so he could only assume it was wrapped around his wrist as it had been during their last meeting. Could Albus feel it pulsating against his skin? Their joined blood drops, dancing inside at the two of them being reunited? Did he enjoy it or loathe the sensation? He couldn’t bring himself to ask, just yet at least.

“I did not mean to cause offence with my invitation. I was certainly not summoning you like a pet. I was merely desiring your company this evening.” Gellert had wanted to speak with him and had been in no mood to do so downstairs. He hadn’t wanted to wear a glamour with Albus, and he had wanted this meeting to be private. There were too many eyes and ears downstairs and while they wouldn’t have been able to see through his spell, he didn’t want them to become suspicious. Besides, that would only increase their suspicion of Albus when they were already keeping close enough tabs upon him as it was. The cuffs might have come off but they both knew the Ministry wouldn’t think twice about slapping them on again. 

“Is there a way I can make it up to you?” He leaned in closer, his hair brushing lightly against Albus’ skin. How he longed to press a kiss against his pulse point but he refrained, if only because it would send Albus running.

[fixomnia-scribble]

BLUE BLOODS RECAP: 9x01 “Playing With Fire”

Aaand we’re back! Without further ado, BEYOND HERE BE SPOILERS and also longpost is long, hence the cut.

Hello again!

Season 9 opens with Danny and Baez on a gorgeous sunny day, attending a floater scene on the shore of the East River. Danny laments that they’re in the wrong kind of suits for a sunny day, but they look pretty great to me. The floater, not so much. It’s rare for this show to get quite so graphic, but yes indeed, that is a headless body and that is a very realistic model of a decapitation. The back of one hand has a tattoo of a smaller black hand, which Danny and Baez agree is a sign of the Mexican mafia.

Cut to: Office of E. Make that the New Office of E! Erin, with slightly longer, darker and wavier hair, is being shown around her new work digs, which are in fact the late Monica’s old work digs. Erin is promoted to Bureau Chief in Monica’s place. She feels a pang at this, but her boss reminds her that life keeps on going regardless. After these bon mots, he walks up to her face and tells her he’s going to be watching her very closely for any undue sympathy for the police, given her two brothers in uniform and Dad in the PC’s seat. Then with a breezy “Let me know if you need anything,” he makes to leave.

Erin pulls out a spare backbone (she gets them by the dozen) and says she wants to keep to her old office and keep Anthony as her investigator. Her boss makes a poke about her sentimentality, which during this week of US Supreme Court madness reads as a 1950’s “Aww, wimmin!” without the laugh track. Erin thanks her boss for the promotion and they part on more or less amicable terms.

Cut to: Office of F. Frank is being briefed by Garret, Gormley and Baker (Baker! Baker! Baker!). Frank has checked out mentally to the point that Garrett asks him bluntly, “Anybody home?” and the three eye each other. And in a delightfully Shakespearean expository scene, Frank channels Duke Egeus and informs them that Jamie and Eddie plighted their troth over the past weekend (in Hiatus Standard Time).

The three exclaim their congratulations. Duke Egeus then goes on to say that they intend to keep riding together as partners. Baker, as Titania, merely says, “Oh,” but could possibly be impressed. Gormely, (IDK, as Caliban, maybe?) says that’s a problem. Garrett (as Philostrate), asks him why. “A million good reasons,” hyperbolizes Caliban. Duke Egeus informs them all that there is no actual law against it. Philostrate, being Master of the Revels, reminds Egeus that it’s his house and he can issue an interim order against it. Egeus asks Caliban to draw one up. Titania visibly winces.

Cut to: A New York Street, down which Jamie and Eddie are ambling when they spot a ruckus. A young fellow is flailing and shouting. “What’s up with this guy?” Jamie wonders. “I dunno, maybe he just had dinner with his fiancée’s family,” Eddie returns, lightheartedly. “How many more times you gotta do this?” “I’ll let’cha know,” Eddie smirks, and they run towards the ruckus.

There’s a fire quickly spreading through an apartment block, and a woman screaming and pounding on her window from inside. As Eddie calls it in, Jamie tells her to stay outside, and he’ll be right back. “Like hell,” Eddie responds, right on his heels as he busts a ground-level door open. Oh, no, no foreshadowing of partnership danger or a break with training here. Nevertheless, they make a quick plan and set off for different apartments.

Jamie locates the woman who screamed to him, and walks her out, hacking. He yells for Eddie, who is right behind him, and they make for the exit. Jamie and his charge make it to the sidewalk where they are blown to the ground by a flashover explosion. There’s no Eddie in sight as the fire brigade arrives and pushes Jamie, screaming her name, out of the way. I can’t help but remember Eddie hearing a gunshot and screaming Jamie’s name, years ago. These two know what they’re getting into, but I don’t envy them that.

AND CREDITS. Phew. I want a cup of tea already.

The title sequences are the same except for the dinner-table clip now has Sean passing Eddie the cornbread. No main credits for Vanessa, though, or either of the Terraciano brothers – just Donnie, Bridget, Lou, Will, Sami and Tom. Ooh, will we get to watch more of Nicky becoming a cop this year?

Back to the fire. The FDNY is shoving Jamie aside, assuring him they’ll get his partner out, but he ducks and runs back into the burning building anyway, because he’s Jamie. Eddie’s right there, having single-handedly carried an elderly gent nearly to the door. Jamie helps her, and they watch in horror as the stairs burst into flame right behind them, just before they all make it to the sidewalk.

After they hand the gent to the paramedics, the firefighter who hauled Jamie back gets up in his face and calls him an ass. An honest to God fisticuffs breaks out with a few more FDNY piling in. Eddie breaks it up, demanding to know what it was about. Nothing, Jamie tells her. Uh huh. Eddie still doesn’t know about him hanging out in an enclosed school bus while his buddy trusted his luck at defusing a bomb, does she? Jamie’s save-everyone habits are going to get them both in no end of trouble.

They spot the young man who first alerted them. His name is Justin Matthews, and he’s pretty shook up. He asks if everyone got out okay. Jamie notes that he smells like gasoline and his hand looks pretty burned. Justin repeats that nobody was supposed to be in there. Eddie looks at him with concern that turns to snarling rage as she hollers that he almost got them all killed. They place him under arrest and everyone tries to gulp down a few breaths.

It’s almost a relief to cut to the quiet stillness of the five-four interview room, where Danny and Baez are speaking with Melissa, the girlfriend of Matty, whose body was located in the East River. She has no idea who killed him. Nobody is convinced of this. Danny tells her that they knew he was a member of the Mexican mafia and that he sold drugs. Melissa blatantly says that’s why cops are dicks, thinking they have all the answers from a few tattoos. “So please enlighten us,” Baez says, Latina to Latina, but Melissa enjoys being alive too much to answer questions.

Turns out that Melissa is pregnant, and that Matty stopped dealing when they found out, wanting to get out of that life. And thiiiiis is where I drop out of the scene, because Melissa, as charming an actress as she is, is given a whole speech that defies belief. Okay, sure, Matty’s gone straight and has a carpentry job. But then she recites all the details of a text (a whole lot of texts, I’m assuming) in which the mafia instructs Matty to do one more complicated run for them, complete with amounts and locations. I can’t catch the name of the cartel, but it’s apparently a bad baddie. She volunteers the name of one of the cartel’s hit men - La Pantera. The Panther, so named because he is sneaky, silent and lethal. Lordy, do they think they can even let her out the door safely after this? Baez at least looks concerned now.

Cut to: another interview room, this time in the One-Two, where a smoke-smeared Eddie and Jamie are reading the riot act to Justin while a medic attends to his hand. Jamie notes there were two family members in the building. Eddie, who has been walking a fine line between Command Presence and Righteously Pissed all episode, hollers at him to give up the name of the person who told him the building was empty. The kid seems more freaked out than belligerent, though, and Jamie tries Quiet Voice. To no avail. Justin lawyers up.

We get a nice close-up of Eddie’s new fruit salad as they walk the kid out: her Excellent Police Duty bar, presumably for taking down Jamie would-be assassin Dante, last week in Hiatus-Standard-Time. That was fast…I hope she had a nice ceremony and got taken for beers, anyway.

Nighttime, at the Five-Four. Danny tells Baez that The Panther wasn’t in the system, at least not under that name, but that his real name is Luis Delgado. And Ooh! My girl Baez has a cozy contact in the DEA’s office feeding her this information, an agent with a Mustang. She’s not dating “that clown” anymore, as Danny calls him, but she does miss the ‘stang. Baez picks her moment carefully and explains that according to the DEA, Delgado is the one who set Danny’s house on fire, back in Season 7. (She does not say “back in Season 7”.) They share a look.

Cut to: Jamie, in full Dress Blues minus gloves, emerging from the One PP elevator on the fourteenth floor. He takes a deep breath and steps out. Baker meets him with a look of cautionary solidarity and tells him the Commissioner is waiting in his office. I’m sure Baker is far too loyal and discreet to ever reach out to Jamie and Danny when they get spanked and explain what really was said in the office, but her eyes do speak volumes.

She also pins Frank with a look at Jamie enters the office, and I snicker. And I wonder whether Jamie’s about to get spanked for brawling with the FDNY, or if Frank is going to lower the boom on he and Eddie’s partnership. Or both. You’d think Eddie would be called in for the latter, though, because surely it shouldn’t fall to the other partner to explain a direct breakup order.

Jamie stands to attention and freaking salutes, which we haven’t seen more than once or twice. Frank tries to brush it off, but Jamie holds his pose and gaze until Frank returns the salute. I think I hear Jamie actually click his heels as he drops his salute. Brat. I love it. Baker is still standing watching this, with a look of “I could���ve spared you all this if you’d only asked my opinion.” And she HOLDS THAT LOOK even as she closes the doors.

The two manage a surprisingly civil conversation, with Frank merely reminding Jamie that he and Eddie really do need to inform their CO of their engagement, and Jamie promising that his relationship with Eddie won’t affect his performance on the job. Then Frank asks about the thing with the firefighter. Jamie frames it as having run back into the building for his partner. “Fiancée,” Frank corrects. “Partner,” Jamie insists, “As I would for any partner.” Which I have no trouble believing. Lord knows he wouldn’t have left Renzulli in a burning building, and he flew at Vinny the second he was hit. For sure he wouldn’t have let frightened rookie Patimkin perish alone.

It’s not that Frank doesn’t buy it, but he challenges Jamie on the point that Jamie’s relying on a legalistic reading of the Code, but ignoring the decades of unwritten Rules, and is hoping to use his position as the PC’s son to open a loophole. I mean – this is just my take but, Jamie’s right, there’s no way of knowing if “no CO in the city” would let a pair of engaged officers ride together. It would be interesting to find out, and perhaps to open a conversation about that, but Frank is also correct that even if it turns out that there is a desire for change – Jamie is in too privileged a position to be the change-maker.

Frank really lays it on the line then, drawing a word-picture of Jamie and Eddie getting married, continuing to ride together, and getting taken out in the same action. What, he asks, does Jamie want Frank to do with his kids?

It’s a legitimate question. It’s one half of the real crux of the matter, the other half being the natural protective reflexes of couples overriding police training in critical moments.

Jamie walks out, frustrated, but not with any real heat, merely closing down the conversation on a question he can’t or won’t answer. Frank, not angry either but caught between many competing needs, just sighs.

Next morning: Office of E. Jamie slides a small potted plant onto Erin’s desk and chirps, “Congratulations! On your promotion!” He plunks himself in her guest chair, all casual in jeans and chambray overshirt.

Erin, knowing her baby brother very well, says, “Thank you,” carefully, and then, “You really came all the way down here just to tell me that.”

Jamie rolls for his +2 Look of Total Innocence and squeaks, “Absolutely!”

“Not,” finishes his big sister. Must’ve been a critical hit. “Why don’t you tell me why you’re really here, because God knows everyone in this family has an ulterior motive for just about everything.” Hee. I do so love when Erin gets blunt. I wonder what she’d have been like if her mother was still alive and the whole family didn’t turn Erin into their unwitting border collie because she’s the token adult female?

Jamie wants a sit rep on Justin Matthews. It’s not good. Since the grandfather died, Erin’s bumped up the charges to Murder Two and Arson, as she must. Predictably, Jamie asks for a chance to do some digging, believing due to Justin’s demeanour that someone put him up to it. Jamie asks her to temporarily withdraw the murder charge, keeping the Arson charge intact, which would give them six days to investigate.

Erin explains for the umpteenth time, with the patience of a saint, why she can’t just roll back or lay charges for Danny and Jamie when they have a hunch. Jamie casually gets up mid-speech and just says, “Thank you,” as he leaves, quickly. Again. You just know he’s been pulling this shit since he was the angelic baby brother with the golden curls.

Erin reaches for her glasses, and presumably, codeine.

Cut to: Office of F. The rain is cascading in sheets against the window, and the office is dark. Frank is standing looking out the window, his back to the camera, wearing an NYPD rain jacket and ball cap – literally telling us which hat he feels he must wear. Baker marches in, and oh, this is gonna be good.

“My detail ready?” Frank asks. There’s a ten minute delay, Baker informs him. For her. I take the moment to go and finally make that cup of tea.

“Okay,” Frank agrees cautiously. To his credit, he does ask her input: “Look, you’re married to a cop, what do you think?” Which is interesting – I think we did know that, but it certainly places her front and center for once as the voice of experience, even though she doesn’t work with her husband.

Baker lays out her objection in more broad terms: that an injunction on partners having any sort of romantic relationship, coming from the PC, would be a mistake. Now, she gives her reason as being that it would be singling out Jamie as much as if Frank looked the other way – either way, it becomes all about Jamie being the PC’s kid, much as with his impossible promotion to Detective. Kid just can’t have a normal career in that force.

Baker then hilariously riffs on the pitfalls of traditionalism versus evidence and data, likening the situation to Catholic priests being assumed to be unable to tend the needs of their flocks while…indulging in human…touch and companionship…and she trails off into an uncomfortable silence that Frank eventually breaks with a “Not the same thing, Abigail.” To which she replies, no, but it’s not that distant a cousin. I wanna know how many takes that took, because there was some mighty fine improv and off-camera cheek-biting going on.

Frank, Very Done with the conversation, asks her tell his detail he’s ready. Baker nearly leaps for the door to escape.

The thing is, Baker’s right: Jamie needs evidence and data and a clear code to follow – something he could either follow closely, or just as respectfully work to change with better data. He doesn’t do well with waffling and rote tradition.

Frank sighs again.

Cut to: Office of E. Abetemarco comes in with dinner: hot dogs with sauerkraut, mustard and ketchup. I’ve missed these two. Tony is eating a salad, albeit an entire family tub of salad. Erin lays out the new terms of her gig as Bureau Chief and how Tony fits in. In fact, she gives him the sweetest speech about him being the only one she truly trusts in the office, which just visibly guts him. I think the guy’s more than a little in love with her for real, not just as his hot, smart boss – he adores and respects the crap out of her and she makes him smile. And then she comes out with things like this. He starts blustering about his kale being like lawn clippings with salad dressing, and she swaps him for her hot dog.

Danny wanders in (from where? It’s evening and the office looks closed.) and like Jamie, opens with “Congratulations on your promotion! I need a warrant.” Tony: “I’m fine, and you?” Hee. I love those two sharing scenes even more than Tony and Erin sharing scenes.

Erin doesn’t turn him down cold, but asks for details, which he lays out, even with the looks he gets as soon as he says, “The guy who burned my house down.” Erin can’t give him a warrant until Manny’s death has been ruled a homicide, which, absent a head and evidence of foul play, the ME cannot do.

“Could’ve been a boat propeller,” ventures Tony, waving his hot dog around.

“Really?” Danny squints, fist on hip.

“Possible,” says Tony.

“Really?” Danny squints harder.

“I mean, I don’t think that’s what happened,” Tony allows.

“Thank you,” Danny says. Then, to Erin: “You gonna help me or not?” Because that is, after all, the next line in the Reagan family script where Erin is concerned. Danny brings out the seriously big cannons, the we-are-not-talking-for-a-month cannons, invoking all that Erin has refused to do that might even have prevented the mob from being able to target him, his kids and his late beloved Linda.

Erin looks stony-eyed as Danny leaves as quickly as he came – like Jamie,

Tony glances up at Erin’s face, checking how she��s taking this. She shakes her head and doesn’t look him in the eye.

Cut to: Danny and Baez entering Delgado’s house, guns drawn, damn the warrant. Baez demurs, but Danny glibly says the door was open, and someone could be in danger. That someone is Baez: as she makes her way down a flight of open stairs, a hand grabs her ankle and she tumbles to the bottom. Danny pulls his gun on OMG LOU FREAKING DIAMOND PHILLIPS, I mean Luis Delgado. Baez is okay but groggy, sitting up against the wall with her gun also on Delgado, who says they can’t arrest him, and they didn’t even identify themselves as cops. Whereupon Danny tells him exactly who he is. Clearly Delgado recalls the name.

Back at the Five-Four, Delgado is cracking wise until Baez leaves Danny alone with him while she gets a pad for him to write out a statement. While she is gone, Delgado admits to torching Danny’s house, and that his only regret was that his family wasn’t inside. There couldn’t be a stronger lever to pull in Danny’s back. Baez has to pull them apart, when she returns, while Delgado protests he never said a thing. Baez reminds him they have to do everything by the book on this one – and why on earth are they allowed to investigate the arson of Danny’s house? – and Delgado laughs in their faces. Don’t they record their interview rooms? At my detachment, most rooms and office spaces were audio and videotaped 24/7 whether anyone was using them or not…

Delgado’s lawyer, predictably, walks him right out of the precinct, and Erin fumes at Danny for dragging her down there and making her look bad with no evidence whatsoever. Doesn’t Erin have People  - she said fifty or so prosecutors, right? - to delegate visits to now?

Cut to: Jamie and Eddie on the street outside the burned apartment block. Eddie is remonstrating with him that the case is with the detectives and they shouldn’t be there (yet again.) Jamie snipes that he’s getting tired of people telling him what he can’t do. Ouch. It’s nice to see Jamie taking an interest again, but if he’s feeling restrained, he’s got a whole lot of options he could explore that don’t involve going against decades of quasi-military tradition OR standard investigation procedures that could get him into more hot water. Anyway. Speaking to a neighbour, the two learn that the building owner was pulling shady shit to get his tenants to leave so he could sell the place, and the two that were in the fire were the last two holdouts. “That’s motive,” Jamie says, and Eddie gives him a look of aren’t-we-in-enough-trouble-dear?

Cut to: Office of E. Unscrambling the landlord and his family, Tony finds that Justin Matthews is the son of the sole partner in the corporation who owns the building. Matthews put his own kid up to torching the place. Erin asks if he can coax the kid into paying them a visit. “I can be very charming,” Tony deadpans. “I have no doubt,” Erin deadpans back. Hee. These two make such a great unlikely couple – and the thing is, the only thing that makes them “unlikely” is the Hollywoodification of size and social status. But that’s a body-politics lecture for another day.

Cut to: Family dinner. Grace being rattled off at high speed. Eddie looking slightly rattled, not yet keeping up. We’ve never had a word about her own religious background in canon. I wonder how and when that’ll come up. Her parents were both raised in Eastern Bloc, Soviet-era official communist atheism, but Eddie, we think, was born in New York – there’s no telling what influences she might have encountered, or not. A question for the ages. Anyway, I digress.

An uncomfortable and unusual silence takes hold after Grace, masked by napkins being unfolded and salt being passed. Nicky nods happily across the table at Eddie, while Eddie side-eyes Jamie and Frank, and Jamie eyes Danny and Erin. Sean loudly and politely offers Eddie the cornbread, which she accepts equally loudly and politely, out of sheer relief at breaking the silence. The others make a genuine effort to make Eddie feel welcome, but her complimenting the mashed potatoes (Frank’s late wife’s recipe) gets hijacked by Danny demanding actual proof that his mom actually made such potatoes. Oh, brother.

“My word on mashed potatoes does not need to hold up in court,” Erin replies, more calmly than I would.

Chimeth in Jameson: “Well, from where I sit, at this table, you can be accused of breaking rules that don’t even exist.” Whoa, now. That’s totally not what happened. The boys are spoiling for a fight that’s been brewing up all week, but for once, not with each other.

Nicky, her mother’s daughter, points out that it’s kinda hard to prosecute something that’s not written down. Frank admits that’s true legally, but not practically. (Which was Jamie’s point all along, no?) It falls to Henry to ask everyone to take a step back.

“It gets like this sometimes,” Sean, who has always been useful at speaking truth, tells Eddie, who smiles somewhat gratefully. “Not always, but sometimes,” Jack agrees, apologetically.

Henry takes Frank’s side on the question of romance at work. It’s all the more poignant since we know how he felt about Colleen when they rode together. Jamie, still barely tethered to the handle, demands of Eddie if he’s “romancing her at work”, to which she splutters and shakes her head and doesn’t even go near answering.

Just as Jamie calms down a little, Danny fires up again, but has to leave to take a call from Manny’s pregnant girlfriend Melissa. Only it’s not. Oh, crap. It’s Delgado on Melissa’s phone, and she is very dead, on the floor beside her bed. Delgado tells Danny it’s his fault for messing with the wrong man.

Danny stalks back through the dining room to collect his jacket and redirects the blame to Erin, who rightly denies it. Danny, pissed, stalks back out again, while the rest of the family just goes on placidly munching. Nobody even mentions getting the boys home again later. Someone’ll take them, presumably. It’s just another Reagan Sunday.

Erin stabs at her vegetables. I’ve never seen Eddie look quite so uncomfortable, sitting beside her. Eddie makes a valiant effort to get the train back on the rails, but the poor thing is surrounded by Reagans who are either pissed off or know better than to open their mouths.

Cut to: Jamie and Eddie walking down a city street on a beautiful summer night. (I do some Google-Fu and pinpoint their real-life location to St. Paul’s Mission on West 51st Street between 8th and 9th Avenue, in Hell’s Kitchen.) Eddie remarks that she thought family dinner would be friendlier. Jamie points out he never said they don’t disagree (which is hilarious if you’ve ever watched more than one family dinner scene.) Eddie thinks it’s more serious than that. She’s quite concerned about Frank and Henry actively discouraging them from remaining partners.

Jamie, still nursing his sore ego, flares up again, saying that Eddie can’t just cave in to his family whenever they have a difference of opinion. He’s all the more upset because he thought he and Eddie were standing together in this, but she seems to be willing to split their partnership to keep the peace. I don’t think he reckoned with Eddie desperately not wanting to cause any rifts, and to start off their marriage feeling like she’s part of a supportive family for once.

“I just want you,” she says, her voice cracking. She really sounds a bit miserable and scared, after such a tense dinner. Which takes the wind out of Jamie’s sails, and he seems to flail for something to hold onto for a second, but doesn’t even take her hand. I frown sternly through the screen and hiss at him to at least give her a hug. It’s a significant bookend to the “It’s smart not to want what you can’t have but first you have to admit you don’t want it!” speech she tried convincing herself with a couple years back, on another walk with him.

Cut to: Henry Sits The Boy Down For A Talking-To. After dinner, Henry lectures Frank on the critical importance of accepting what’s done and focussing on what good can come of it – and especially being kind. He points out that when Jamie first brought Eddie to dinner and they announced their engagement, Frank basically dumped a wet blanket over the good-news part of it and went straight for attacking what was wrong. Erin remonstrated with him over it, at the time, too. Which is what’s really eating at Jamie, if Frank could only see it. That’s what makes sense of Jamie’s attitude, even if they understand each other’s point of view pretty clearly over the gap in written partnership protocol.

Henry finishes his lecture with a reminder that they now have another cop in the family, and another reason for their hearts to stop when they hear “Officer Down” over the radio. (I’ve been in the office when that call goes out, and yes, holy heck, it’s unimaginable, all the moreso because you don’t have to imagine anything – you hear it all in staticky increments as the incident plays out.) He doesn’t mention the grandkids, at least one or two of whom will probably also join up. He doesn’t have to.

Cut to: the Five-Four. Erin and Danny are clearing the air with mutual apologies and assurances that they actually do understand where the other is coming from. Erin pitches in to help, suggesting that the piece of evidence they DO have is the text that Melissa mentioned in which Delgado, or someone, directed Manny to do a drug run. She even, bless her heart, has a warrant for text messages on Delgado’s phone after the murders.

Cut to: late night. Danny is observing a drug drop, and his team swarms on Delgado in the act of a handover. Delgado, kneeling on the ground almost comfortably, tut-tuts at Danny that nothing will stick, that Danny doesn’t have that kind of luck. He even speaks of Linda’s fatal helicopter accident somehow being connected with Danny’s long-running investigation, as was the house fire. Danny manages to keep his composure and merely tells the arresting officers to get him on his feet.

And then things get odd.

Danny tells Delgado to turn around, and he uncuffs him. He tells Delgado straight up that he’s free to go, that he appreciates his cooperation, and they’re done now. Delgado is confused. Danny tells him again that they’re done. Various cops and thugs on the grounds are also watching, befuddled.

“You know what you’re doing?” Baez (dressed like HOW? In fluttery pink blouse and heeled boots on a drug takedown) asks.

“Hope so,” Danny says. He’s effectively framed Delgado as the snitch who helped the cops orchestrate a mass drug arrest. “Everyone hates a snitch, right?”

And in fact one of the thugs on the ground is yelling at Delgado as he walks away.

Morning. Office of E. Erin is making nice with the other brother, saying they just got a confession out of Justin Matthews. You see what they can accomplish if they all just work together?

Jamie is, like, way chill this morning. I think he and Eddie talked things through to their mutual satisfaction…

Erin goes on with a lecturette about most dads doing anything to protect their kids. That Frank’s not upset about the policy question so much as worried for Jamie’s and Eddie’s safety. Jamie wishes the old man would cut him some slack. His big sister opines maybe that should go both ways. Jamie looks thoughtful. Great sex and a good nights’ sleep has a wonderfully refreshing effect on one’s outlook.

Cut to: Danny and Baez walking towards another scene. Baez is talking about a wallet in a deceased person’s pocket, but that she didn’t want to pull it out and check until the ME clears the body. I’m thinking another headless floater, likely Delgado. They seem to think so, too.

“You okay?” Baez asks. I don’t think they expected this – maybe to put the scare on Delgado or to get someone to finger him in a sworn evidentiary statement. Someone with Delgado’s swagger and smarts should be pretty hard to kill, right? Apparently not.

“Nothing is ever over,” Danny sighs. “If there’s one thing I learned in the last year, closure’s overrated.”

Nighttime, Office of E. Her new boss comes in with another, larger potted plant, which he places on her coffee table. He then says he just saw the DD5 form for the warrant on the text messages. He spins some interesting and surprisingly sympathetic double-talk about how Delgado’s execution could be seen as an inevitable gang homicide after a life of violent crime, or that the cops set him up as a rat. He points to the potted plant and cautions her not to over-water it – that most people do, but that the secret is to keep the balance just right. She gets it. I think her boss is somewhat impressed.

Nighttime, Reagan Kitchen. Frank is working late, pecking away at his laptop. He’s not what you’d call a fluid typist. Enter Jamie, with large bottle of scotch. Father and son greet each other more or less amiably. “You owe me sixty-eight bucks,” Jamie says. “It’s a congratulations present from you to me.” Hee. Boy’s got a point. The only congratulations gift Frank actually offered was a precinct transfer.

But then Jamie pulls a fast one on everyone by reminding Frank that that the Sergeants Exam scores were posted that day. Eddie did okay. Jamie clinched the top spot. Hence the scotch. Frank (because Frank) forgets Henry’s lecture and goes straight for the what’s-wrong-with-this-scenario, asking why Jamie didn’t even tell him he was taking it, after all the pushing and shoving they were doing? Jamie flatly tells him he didn’t want to give him that kind of satisfaction after Frank was being so pushy over something that really needed to be Jamie’s decision alone. The two clearly understand each other over this. I can’t imagine Frank doing anything differently if Henry had been riding his ass about taking the exam.

Frank finally offers his congratulations, which Jamie accepts.

Given the choice, Jamie says he’ll take the promotion, though both he and Eddie know it means not riding together as a matter of course. (With the top spot, Jamie will basically get his pick of the next Sergeant’s positions, but Eddie may have to wait a little while longer for hers.) Jamie gets around to asking if he has his father’s blessing.

Frank really needs leading around by the nose sometimes. This stuff should have been at the top of his agenda. Jamie needs words, and Frank knows it. Jamie also, if he’s being honest, values and needs his dad’s approval in this major leap he’s taking, and in bringing Eddie into the family. Frank finally says he couldn’t be happier for him. And that’s the truth.

The two sit back for what looks like it might be a longer session than anticipated, but it’s a big bottle.

[libidomechanica]

Flash’d through dreary wastes

Witnesse many maiden babe, a doubled; for all the flocke, my little idle sauntering flames wherein campeth, spreading the ass of slain till he is all hush and glad, an abbot on a map, but try your Title white and learn this merry glee, that brave as Absalom’s Mildness Ill with Buonaparte’s cancer: could also be the people feels, beating sickness down the lightning and with such scenes my meditates Revenge delay’d: so will warming as skies are: pursue her as she fall in view set all was blithe and I lose the clock, by its fires, the Solymæan Rout; well knew, where Mercy, Pity, Peace. And she wins, and power, fair sweet beautiful lady tall are pacing star doth but small: little children, the sensuous organism that will finde Stella, died. But let not they must be the maid paused awhile! Fie pleasures, and bid good neighs aloud: thou canst not frights in joy. Some dire misfortune and string, if they have soul, and silly selfe pype I neede not yield. Yet sayshould have knows not, since thereby, save their Own. Being so light shall this is love; I hate not love is slain; I saw the gate, he came with your windows shed divine came to quench the throat skewered like an April morn, of the sluttish time. Making them quick to your lap, and on the grass and limits of forget my poor heart heaving with their Scribes Record, by nature wear! The budding name! It is other than her and crown of whose loose Carriers his shall in the Mirror of shame, who lives a son … You! Why was Cupid with a perpetual dullness, to- morrow he intent to shake my Power may move nor will I yield. Or butcher, bent to song and too late: suppose a Monarch of Jesus set me from thence will die without breath, and made for the use of the Brazils, and formal, fitted well; join lip to draw men’s mind, the virgin’s blood, the moonlight station. And melts with no shoes, no belt and I’ve called Devil’s Elbow. Death, call’d him so. Nor envy them, shedding air bubbles winking of your liberties a spoil are made a sin; when looking ill pretences to love’s despite, her ears, straight to flow in so they prate of all songs sake. When it is batter’d with figures (if that were again, I am old, and with her hast engross’d: of him who’s smooth pearl of our bird-throats:—do not miracles are, to cast and the warm approach’d me under a spirit deeply she falling you your populace own the last gasps, as he rode, like Painter would be, to drive infection in my thoughts bring sad their Masters Fate: in Exile he laughter, than break it not stay, and her thought itself so bless the better thrive well: the drugs that dark process of the woman ever satisfi’d with their Power to Punish those falr lips apart. Hello to the Indies, my Mary, and that your forehead of dewy wine, ‘Out upon his hands! Compar ing in the worlds before’ or your Sabine farm) is rather death. And Susan’s side. Sad prospect which time she’s in a watrie glasses in celebration, but your Filial Name, a Father; coud his face, oh call it not, madam: by your mouth, with javelin’s point a churlish swine to see and so much time that mix’d thy footing troth. If you this. I fear your horses had the white virgins keep, to me he made mine eye darts forth, in its gulf a fitting truth! The standard is that lamp you came a voice calling your name, and weep each other any weeping.

[sleemo]

The snow fight with Rey and Kylo from Act V, Scene II of William Shakespeare’s the Force Doth Awaken by Ian Doescher.

[ Leia’s soliloquy ] [ Rey’s Interrogation ]

Enter CHORUS.

CHORUS The two men dodge and parry by their light, One inexperienc’d, the other train’d. With savagery and brawn unfolds the fight, Till Finn by Kylo Ren is sorely pain’d. He falls and the lightsaber flies aside, Rey wakes nearby—clear thoughts her pain doth smother. Shall Luke’s lightsaber Ren withal abide, Or shall the Force awaken for another?

[Exit Chorus. Kylo Ren reaches for the lightsaber, preparing to use the Force to draw it to him.

KYLO Now come, lightsaber, to the hand of Ren. Fulfill in me thy perfect destiny: To be constructed by Darth Vader, then To fall into the young Skywalker’s hands, And, at the last, be reunited to The dark by this next generation, yea, E’en I, call’d Kylo Ren, the grandson and The heir unto Darth Vader’s legacy. I feel thy pow’r: now come, for thou art bid.

[The lightsaber flies toward Kylo Ren but continues past him, landing in Rey’s hands.

REY O, hope fulfill’d! O, unexpected Force! Come, Kylo Ren, and feel the light of Rey.

[Rey and Kylo Ren freeze as they prepare to fight.

[Rey and Kylo Ren unfreeze as she attacks him with vigor. They duel.

KYLO [aside:] She hath more strength that I would ever guess. Not as one train’d, but like an animal She comes at me with brutish energy. Still, she hath not the learning to succeed: Her inexperience shall be her doom.

REY [aside:] O Finn, O Han, I shall avenge ye both! This villain shall make answer for his wrongs.

KYLO [aside:] The ground—it shakes an ’twere all nature did Join in our battle, groan with our exertion. Ha! Now I press my natural advantage: She weakens—she should not have stood to fight. None so untested and naïve as she Shall ever overpower Kylo Ren.

REY [aside:] The ground, it falls away from me. Alack! The triumph of the brave Resistance doth Mean danger and great risk for those below.

[Kylo Ren forces Rey to the edge of a precipice as the ground falls away behind her.

KYLO I have thee now—thine end shall come anon, Unless thou heed’st these gracious words of mine: Though thou art strong I can destroy thee here, Yet do I recognize thine aptitude. I sense thou need’st a skillful teacher, yea: Let me show thee the power of the Force!

REY [aside:] O, Force, almost I had forgotten thee. Rey, let not vengeance and thine anger fierce Keep thee from thinking on what gives thee pow’r. Instinct alone this fight can never win, Not by mine own ability shall I O’ercome this man, this brute, this darkest knave. Forsooth, ’tis with the Force that I shall live— Once it hath call’d in Maz Kanata’s castle, The steadfast Force hath never left my side. Hence I did flee, its call I would not heed: E’en was I most afeard of what it show’d, Repulsive was the vision unto me, Jarr’d sharply was my soul by what I saw, Elusive visions of the darkness rising. Distress’d by these unask’d-for mysteries, I ran away, was ta’en by Kylo Ren. Now I’ve the chance to make another choice: O, Force, I swear I’ll run no more from thee, Where thou shalt lead, from now I’ll happ’ly follow. Fear still exists, yet only strengthens me: Aye, courage is not made by lack of fear. Respond unto the calling of the Force— Go, Rey, and give this hateful little man Occasion to respect the light, the good. No longer scavenger, for I have found Exactly that which e’er I did desire!

[Rey counterattacks and drives Kylo Ren backward.

KYLO [aside:] What is this newfound potency she shows? Whence comes this burst of vigor and resolve?

REY [aside:] The Force is with me, sharpen’d in my mind, It floweth through me an ’twere mine own blood. Each move becomes transparent, almost simple, As if I knew where Ren would parry next.

KYLO [aside:] Alas, how mortifying in th’extreme! My energy grows slack, I must retreat. The end is clear, but not as I would write it: I shall be bested by a scavenger.

[Rey strikes Kylo Ren across his face, scarring him. He falls to his knees.

REY [aside:] The Force had led me to this victory, Which ends in justice for the innocent. For by the end of this most wretched base, And by the end of this most wretched man, Methinks the galaxy shall be secure. E’en there, I must be careful, by my troth, For to the dark side I would not be join’d. If I attempt to slay this humbl’d man, I let the dark side deep inside my heart. Let me display the mercy he ne’er would.

[The ground splits between Rey and Kylo Ren, forcing them apart. Exit Kylo Ren.

Conclusion of this battle is delay’d— This Kylo Ren and I must meet again. Now let me fly or share the selfsame fate As this bleak planet, seeming to collapse.

Enter CHEWBACCA in the Millennium Falcon.

A-ha, the bold Chewbacca hath return’d To find both Finn and me and bear us hence. O, Finn—poor, fallen friend, we’ll rescue thee, And bring to thee what medicines we can In hopes thou, peradventure, shalt recover. Whatever future Fate for us may braid, The Force is with me; I’ll not be afraid.