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He hung up and slumped forlornly in his chair, the frown back on his face.
Kermit walked past, and then backtracked to stop and ask, "What's up, Kid? You look like somebody just stole your last gummi bear."
Peter made a face. "Yuck. Those things are awful." He sighed. "Kacie just called to say she got called in on another surgery and won't get off work until late tonight. Told me I should see if you guys were going out."
"It just so happens we are." Kermit grinned. "You mean you're actually going to come with us, Peter?"
Peter opened his mouth to respond, but was cut off abruptly.
"So the little wife is going to let you come out and play." Detective Sara Rezac sauntered over to join Peter and Kermit, a mocking smile playing about her lips.
Sara was new at the 101st, placed there by some nameless bureaucrat who wanted to even out the number of men and women on the force. She was in her late twenties, but had one of those ageless faces that could pass for either twenty or thirty-five with proper dress and makeup. Tall and slender, with silvery-gold blonde hair and green eyes, she was considered a knockout by most of the men on the staff. Peter considered her a royal pain, as she had made it more than obvious to everyone at the station that she was interested in him. The fact that he was a married man did little to discourage her, other than to make her lose no opportunity to give him a hard time.
"What do you mean by that?" He stared sharply at her.
"Oh, nothing." Sara shrugged. "It's just that the word pussy-whipped seems to come up whenever your name does."
Peter's face reddened angrily. "And just who's saying that?" he demanded.
She grinned saucily at him. "Oh, I can't remember. Just heard it around somewhere." She strolled away laughing.
Peter turned and glared at Kermit. "Pussy-whipped?"
"Relax, Peter. Just a little precinct gossip. You gotta realize that after years of being the station Romeo, it takes a little adjustment for people to think of you as a stable, married man."
Peter's frown deepened. "But pussy-whipped? What? People here think that I need my wife's permission to go out?"
"Come on, Peter, lighten up," Kermit said. "You gotta admit that you haven't been out much since Kacie came back and you two got married. Some people are just naturally going to assume..."
"Assume what?" he snapped. "I can go out with my friends any time I want and any where I want. I don't have to sit around and wait for her to tell me I can."
"OK, OK." Kermit held up both hands in surrender. "You don't need to defend yourself to me. I'm on your side, remember? And what does it matter, anyway?"
"Let's go." Peter stood and grabbed his coat. "I'm ready to go out and have a drink. With or without anybody's permission."
Peter had loosened up considerably after a few beers and bad jokes, but his friends could see he was still on edge and uncharacteristically sensitive to any comment about how nice it was "the little woman" turned him loose for the night.
He was well beyond his usual alcohol limit by the time Kacie came skipping down the stairs to meet them at their table.
She went directly to Peter and leaned over to kiss him, but he turned his head to present his cheek to her instead. Looking nonplused, she made no comment as she sat down and greeted the others. When Terry came over to take her order, she told him, "Oh, just a club soda for me, thanks."
Peter drained his glass of beer and set it down on the table with a thump. "Whatsa matter? Too good to drink with the rest of us?"
Kacie flushed and said quietly, "No. You know I don't drink, Peter.
"Oh, yeah, I forgot." He nodded wisely to himself. "It's been so long since I've been to a bar, I didn't remember. You finally done with 'work' for the day?"
She bit her lip for a moment before answering slowly, "Ye-e-s. You have a point to make here?" Her eyes narrowed and glittered with a warning light.
Skalany shifted her glance back and forth between the two angry faces and broke in to say, "So...you guys know if Caine is around? I haven't seen him in a while."
Peter took a sip of his beer. "He comes and goes as he pleases. He's got nobody to tell him what he can and can't do." He flicked a pointed glance at Kacie, and she studiously ignored him.
Terry brought Kacie her drink and sat it down in front of her. "Hey, Kacie, long time no see. Where you been keeping yourself?" He grinned at her and winked slyly. "Although since it's only been a couple weeks since you and Pete here got married, I can guess."
"What kind of crack is that?" Peter snarled, half-rising from his chair.
The blonde bartender backed away from the table, hands raised in mock surrender. "Hey, sorry, man. I didn't mean--"
Kacie's face flushed with anger and embarrassment. "Don't worry about, Terry. Somebody's just in a crappy mood tonight. Maybe we should just go home."
"I'm not ready to go home," Peter snapped. "Don't be making decisions for me."
Strenlich set down his glass and said, "Hey, Pete, how about a game of pool? I'm feeling lucky tonight."
Peter downed his beer and said, "Sure. I'm always ready to take your money." He paused and glanced sideways at Kacie. "Unless you don't think I should, 'Honey'. Maybe I should have asked your permission first?"
Hands visibly shaking around her drink glass Kacie hissed, "What are you talking about?"
"Ah, don't mind the Kid," Kermit told her. "A long day of sitting on his butt instead of running around arresting people always makes him a little cranky."
Plunging blindly ahead, Peter went on. "I'm talking about how the people I work with think that the reason I haven't been out with them is because I have a wife who won't let me out without a choke collar." He gestured around the table angrily. "Go ahead, ask them."
The others looked away in embarrassment, and Kermit responded weakly, "Peter, don't you think you're overreacting ju-u-ust a tad bit here?"
Peter glowered momentarily at Kermit before returning his attention to Kacie. "Is that why you're here? To check up on me? I guess it beats having you call the place telling me to come home."
Kacie carefully set down her drink and rose to her feet. "Tell you what, 'Honey'. I have had me some kind of day today. I don't know what you've got up your ass tonight, but you can stay out and play just as long as your little heart desires. You have my 'permission' to stay out all night, if you want to."
Giving his young wife a mock salute Peter sneered, "I might just do that."
Kacie's face first paled and then reddened. "Suit yourself. I've had enough. And don't bother waking me up if and when you get home." With that, she quickly walked away and up the stairs to the exit.
By the time Kermit helped Peter stumble to his door, it was after midnight. "I'm all right," Peter insisted, though he was barely able to stand without his friend's arm around his waist.
Kermit propped him against the wall while he wrestled with the keys to let them in. "Yeah, sure. I don't know what happened to your three beer limit tonight, but I sure am glad that I won't be you tomorrow morning." As he fumbled with the lock, the door opened by itself.
Kacie stood silent and stone-faced and simply watched while Kermit grabbed Peter and the two made their way inside.
"Oh, now, don't...shtart in on...me," Peter slurred as he tried to focus his bleary and reddened eyes on his wife. "Don't need...any more of your...shit."
Kacie flinched, but didn't say a word.
Kermit apologized to her with his eyes while Peter wrapped a companionable arm around his neck. "Kermit, ol' buddy, you're my...besht...frien' inna whole worl'...ya know that?"
"Thanks. Where do you want me to park your sorry ass?"
"Home, James." Peter pointed toward the bedroom and then snickered, as Kermit half-dragged, half-carried him.
Kacie sat on the couch and hugged a pillow to herself, a white ring around her tightly clamped lips.
Kermit emerged a few minutes later, a harried frown on his face. "Um, he threw up all over the bathroom."
"I'll get it."
"He's passed out on the bed."
"Figures."
"I'll be going now." Kermit started for the door, and Kacie got up to follow him. He paused at the doorway to say something more, then hesitated.
"Thanks for bringing him home," she said shortly, eyes fastened to the floor.
He was struck by the misery in every line of her body and, on impulse, lightly touched her cheek. "Listen --," he said, "-- About what happened at the bar tonight..."
"I don't want to talk about it right now, Kermit." She sighed wearily. "I'm tired, and I'd better take care of things in here. Thanks again for making sure he was safe."
"Things will look better in the morning," he told her.
"Sure." She sounded unconvinced.
After she closed the door behind Kermit, Kacie slid the deadbolt home and headed slowly for the bedroom. Pausing at the doorway, she could make out Peter's body sprawled across the bed. Her nose rebelled at the sour odor of vomit and beer that surrounded him. Stripping off his clothes, she cleaned him up and rolled him under the covers. She took his soiled clothes and stuffed them in an empty laundry basket. Entering the bathroom, she wordlessly surveyed the malodorous mess on the floor and toilet before taking out some cleaning supplies from under the sink.
When things were put to rights, she stripped off her own clothing and dressed for bed. She started to crawl in next to Peter, and then changed her mind. Grabbing her pillow from the bed, she walked out into the living room and lay on the couch, pulling an afghan over herself while staring at the lights of the city reflected onto the walls.
Peter woke up the next morning with a mouth that tasted like the inside of a toilet and a head that throbbed in time with his heartbeat. He reached over an arm for Kacie, and his eyes flew open when he felt nothing next to him but cold sheets. He sat up abruptly and fell back again groaning. "Kacie?" he called weakly, not wanting to speak too loudly. His blood ran cold when there was no response. "Kacie?" he called more plaintively.
He rolled over to the edge of the bed and sat up gingerly, momentarily pausing to hold his aching head in his hands. Staggering to his feet, he managed to stumble out to the living room and searched for his wife. He knew one panic-stricken moment, but then saw that Kacie's purse and car keys were missing from their usual places. He felt a blast of relief as he realized she had only gone to work. A profound sense of loneliness rolled over him. This was the first time in his marriage that his wife wasn't there for the usual goodbye hug and kiss before they left for their jobs.
Wandering into the bathroom, he leaned sickly over the sink and stared in the mirror -- to see a man with a pale face, bloodshot eyes, and matted hair. "Way to go, Peter," he sneered at himself, and then turned on the shower with a resigned sigh.
Jody and Skalany were standing at the coffeepot when Peter came dragging in. The shower and a shave had done some outward good, but the look on their friend's face was one of sheer misery. The women exchanged looks and shrugs. "Morning, Peter," Skalany said brightly.
He grunted a greeting and grabbed his coffee mug. After filling it with the thick black liquid, he took it to his desk and sat down heavily in his chair. He opened a drawer and took out a bottle of aspirin, wishing he had thought to ask his father for some sort of herbal hangover remedy. "Plain old aspirin's gonna have to do," he muttered to himself. Dumping a number of them in his hand, he tossed them back in his throat and swallowed a gulp of the bitter coffee. He shuddered as the pills went down and threatened to come right back up again.
Resting his forehead in his hands and closing his eyes, he began to mentally count off his woes. His wife was mad at him, he was late to work, his head ached, his stomach was upset...the only thing that hadn't gone wrong yet was...
"Detective Caine, in my office. Now." Simms stood leaning against the doorframe to her office, arms folded across her chest. She waited long enough to see if she had gotten his attention before going back inside.
"Perfect. Just...perfect," Peter muttered and slowly slunk into her office.
"Shut the door, Detective," Simms directed, while busily shuffling through papers on her desk.
He did as she had ordered, then stood quietly in front of the desk.
"Sit down." She gestured toward a chair with a wave of her hand.
Again he obeyed, thinking this was just the way he'd always felt when getting sent to the principal's office in high school. He fidgeted in his seat as the silence stretched on. "You wanted to see me, Captain?" he asked politely.
"A little late today, weren't we, Detective?" she asked, arching an eyebrow at him.
"Yes, Captain," he responded meekly.
"You look a little under the weather. Nothing catching, I hope?" By now she had stopped working and was staring at him pointedly.
He flushed and answered, "No, Captain. I'm sure it's just a bug or something. I'm fine."
"Maybe it was something you ate...or drank?"
He blew out his breath slowly and closed his eyes as his chin sank to his chest. {Here it comes}, he thought fatalistically.
"Detective Caine," she said softly, but with steely undertones. "I try to make it a point to stay out of the private lives of my officers."
His head came up and he flashed her a belligerent look through narrowed eyes. "And a very good policy that is."
"Let me finish," she snapped. "I was going to say that I make it a point to stay out of the private lives of my officers, unless there is a problem that affects their judgment or their work." She folded her hands in front of her and rested them on the blotter on her desk. "If I feel there is a problem that makes an officer a danger to himself or his co-workers, I will suspend him. Do you understand what I am saying?"
"Perfectly, Captain," Peter told her evenly. "Will that be all?" He got up and started to leave.
"Oh, by the way, Detective." She stopped him while his hand was on the doorknob. "You were an hour late today. I expect you to put in that extra hour before you go home tonight."
He turned to protest, but stopped when he saw the look on her face. He ground his teeth and bit out, "Anything else, Captain?"
"No, that will be all, Detective. You may go." She dismissed him with a nod.
He clenched his jaw angrily and struggled to keep himself from slamming the door as he left. {Dammit, I hate it when I get into trouble and can't blame anybody for it but myself.}
"Trouble in paradise?" Detective Rezac strolled up to Peter's desk and paused in front of it. "Somebody stay out and play a little too hard last night?" she taunted. "I find a man with a hangover very attractive, myself. His defenses tend to be lowered somewhat, don't you think?" She laughed at him and winked before slithering away in a pointedly seductive manner.
Peter opened his mouth to respond angrily, but Kermit chose that moment to grab him by the arm and haul him bodily into his office.
Skalany marched up to Rezac and looked her in the eye. "You know, Sara, sometimes you can push a joke a little too far."
"Meaning?"
"I suggest that you back off on Peter, honey."
"Is that a threat?"
"Call it a friendly warning," Skalany bared her teeth in a smile.
Strenlich called out, "Rezac! Over here! There's still crime to fight in this city!"
"Just keep in mind what I said," Skalany warned.
"Oh, I intend to do nothing else all day long but remember the things you tell me." Sara smiled sweetly as she turned and walked away.
Skalany shook her head as Jody joined her and nodded in Sara's direction. "What was THAT all about?" Jody asked.
Mary Margaret shook her head. "She's been baiting Peter like this ever since she's been here. She's got the hots for him, and the fact that he won't even look at her drives her nuts."
"I don't know what she's trying to prove," Jody observed pensively. "She's a decent detective, but that chip she carries on her shoulder sure grates on my nerves."
"She's got half the guys in the precinct walking around with their tongues hanging out and drooling," Skalany commented. "Sometimes I think she should be investigated by vice instead of serving on the squad."
Kermit let Peter pace around and vent a while before finally asking dryly, "OK, Kid, what's really bothering you?"
Peter slumped in a chair and said mournfully, "Kacie's mad at me."
"You don't think she should be?"
Peter stretched out his long legs in front of him and sighed while shaking his head. "She should be mad as hell," he admitted. "I don't remember a lot about last night. How bad was I?"
"Don't think you really want to know, Peter."
"That bad, huh?"
"You want to start with the part where you told her you'd had enough of her (and I quote) 'shit', or where you threw up all over the bathroom before passing out?"
Peter groaned and slumped lower into the chair, shaking his head, but stopping quickly when the movement shot pain through his temples. He sighed heavily before commenting, "She didn't even say goodbye this morning. I never heard her leave. Hell, she didn't even come to bed last night. I think she slept on the couch."
"Not much you can do about things until you talk to her."
"I know. And I have to stay until seven tonight because I got in late this morning." He groaned dramatically and got to his feet. "I should never have come in to work today."
"Speaking of working, start talking crime. I see Simms looking for you, and she's heading this way. Come look over my shoulder at the computer screen and act interested."
The crew in the operating room stopped their intense activity as Dr. McClanahan said tersely, "Call it. Time of death, 3:45 p.m." He had pulled his mask down to speak and now threw it, as well as his gloves, into the waste dispenser. He shared a look with the anesthesiologist, who nodded over in the direction of the dark-haired nurse heading slowly for the exit doors, head down, shoulders sagging.
The doctor frowned. "Kacie?" he called after her.
She stopped walking and turned to look at him. Her hair was damp with sweat and her face was pale. The dark circles under her eyes made them seem larger than they really were.
He peered at her more closely. "Are you all right?" he asked in concern when he drew up next to her.
"I'm...just tired," she said. "And I hate it when we lose a patient."
"Unfortunately, we lose patients every day. It's part of the medical profession. You can't take them all to heart so." He put a hand under her chin and forced her to look up into his eyes. "I think there's more to it than that. I don't think I've seen you smile once all day today."
Unbidden moisture sprang to her eyes and her chin quivered. "I couldn't think of much to smile about. And...I'm just tired, " she insisted. "I...didn't sleep very well last night, and I have a headache."
"You want something for it?"
"No, thanks. I just need to go home. Get some rest," she finished unconvincingly.
His penetrating gaze suddenly softened. "You want to talk?" he offered gently.
Tears nearly spilled over, but she shook her head and made a feeble attempt to smile. "Thanks, but I've gotta go."
She started to leave and he put a hand on her shoulder. "I want you to stay home tomorrow. Today was a pretty tough day. I'll take care of it with your supervisor." She nodded and started to pull away again. "Hey." She looked at him. "You'll be all right?"
"I'll be fine." She turned and walked slowly to the nurse's locker room.
The doorbell rang at the Blaisdell house and Annie answered the call. When she realized it was Kacie at the door, she threw it open wide. "Kacie! Oh, I'm so glad you dropped by."
"I should have called first," Kacie apologized. "I don't mean to impose."
"It's never an imposition to have my favorite daughter-in-law visit," Annie scolded in mock anger, and pulled her into a hug. "Why, Sweetie, what's wrong? You're shivering."
The sympathy in Annie's voice was almost more than Kacie could stand. "Peter and I had a fight last night," she blurted out.
The two walked down the hallway and sat in the den, Kacie pouring out her troubles, haltingly at first, and then in a torrent of words.
Annie held her hand and listened, wisely choosing not to take sides.
"I just don't understand," Kacie complained. "I've never said he couldn't go out with his friends. I've never told him he had to be home by a certain time from anything. He accused me of checking up on him. And then when he got home he was so drunk he could hardly walk. Kermit had to help him to bed. He threw up and then he passed out."
When Kacie paused for breath Annie asked gently, "This was your first fight?"
"Yes," Kacie's voice quavered. "I slept on the couch last night, but I couldn't sleep. I kept getting up to make sure he hadn't puked again and aspirated it." She gulped and then continued, "When I left to go work this morning, I didn't even get to kiss him good-bye."
"So you haven't talked to him?"
"No," she answered miserably. "I wanted to call him all day today, but I was afraid he'd only say I was checking up on him again. He's the one who was such a jerk, and I'm the one feeling like crap. I don't know what to do. I'm just so tired."
"Tell you what, Kacie, why don't you slip upstairs to Peter's old room and lie down for a while?" Annie suggested. "You'd feel better."
"I should go home, but I don't know what kind of reception I'll get." She laughed bitterly. "As far as that goes, I don't know what kind of reception I want to give Peter. Right now I'm leaning toward things that aren't even legal." She rubbed her temples in weary resignation. "I shouldn't be talking to you like this. You're his mother."
"As his mother I do happen to think he's something pretty special, but that doesn't mean I don't know what an idiot he can be at times. Now off with you, Kacie."
Kacie stood up and said, "Thanks for the offer, Annie, but I've gotta go. I'm sorry I bothered you with all of this."
"Sweetie, you're no bother, not ever. I wish you wouldn't go. You don't sound like you feel well."
Kacie gave Annie a hug. "I'm all right. Thanks for listening to me." With a sigh, she headed for the front door. She had almost reached it when a sudden wave of dizziness hit and the dull ache behind her eyes turned into a lightning bolt of pain. Stumbling against the small table in the hallway, she knocked a vase to the floor as she slid helplessly down the wall.
"Kacie, what happened?" Annie's voice sounded frightened as she tracked down the source of the noise she had heard. She stopped as her toe touched something soft and she heard a low moan. She knelt to the floor, feeling along the wall. "Kacie?"
Kacie pulled herself up to a standing position, using Annie's arms and the wall for support. "I got so dizzy for a minute," she gasped. "A couple times before, when I've gotten really tired, I've gotten a bad headache like this."
"That settles it," Annie said firmly. "Upstairs with you, young lady, and into bed. You're in no shape to go anywhere, and I won't allow it."
They haltingly made their way up the flight of stairs and down the hall to Peter's old room. "Can I get you anything for your headache?" Annie asked.
"No," Kacie answered. "I refuse to take any drugs for it, and the last time I had one this bad, the only thing that could touch it was a tea that Peter's father made for me." She bit her lip against the pain and said thinly, "Maybe, if I just lie down and close my eyes for a while, it'll go away."
Annie got Kacie settled in Peter's old room and covered her daughter-in-law with a blanket. She made her way over to the curtains, making sure they were drawn tightly shut to darken the room. Kacie curled up under the covering and shivered.
Annie came back to sit on the edge of the bed and asked again, "Sweetie, are you sure I can't get you something? An ice pack, maybe?"
Slow tears fell as Kacie whispered softly. "I just want Peter."
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