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[Picks up after "Little Hercules"]

*

"No, I don't want Knicks against Seattle; I want Knicks against Boston, for next Friday. I'm exchanging these tickets for whatever seats you have." He was beginning to lose patience. His boss had given him two Seattle tickets, since they didn't have any Boston free-bees left; he took them thinking he could switch at the box office.

"Look, we are sold out…" the clerk began, rather snottily.

He finally flipped his badge. "I want tickets for next Friday's Knicks game against the Celtics, anywhere in this fucking building. Now, what part of that don't you understand?"

"I'm going to have to call my supervisor."

"Go right ahead, I probably know him." Denby paced back and forth, glancing at his watch. He didn't have to be anywhere, but he didn't want to spend this much time getting hassled by this smartass -- it was just protocol.

"What the hell do you want, Harry?" Stan Peterson, an old buddy of Denby's, came strolling over, grinning from ear to ear. "If you pay them well, it keeps shitheads like you out of my box office."

Denby laughed and shook his hand, Stan slapped him on the back. "Long time, no see, Stan." It must have been a year since he last saw Peterson and wondered why he took over box office sales. He was rotund as ever.

"Give him whatever he wants, and as many as he wants."

"Thanks," Denby said, staying a while longer to catch up.

*

Diane closed the manila folder, glanced at the wall clock, and decided to call it a night. Standing, she put on her coat, and walked towards the door. Feeling something in her pocket, she reached in and found the leather glove, recalling how she lost its mate. Neatly folding the glove, she placed it carefully back in her pocket and left. One stop to make before going home, the all-night drugstore, which was two blocks from her apartment. Quickly, she picked out shampoo, an herbal scent, and then swung down the lipstick aisle. Choosing her favorite shade of pink, she looked up towards the front windows and her gaze became fixed on a chestnut vendor on the corner. But it wasn't the vendor who caught her attention, it was the man buying them. She hurriedly walked to the window, never taking her eyes off of him, for she knew his outline quite well. The last time she looked away from him in a crowd, she lost him. Standing behind a rotating magazine stand, she peeked around nervously. Yes, it was Denby.

He didn't see her, his back turned to the store window. He was waiting for the vendor to roast the chestnuts. She kept her position, unable to move or take her eyes off of him. Peeking still, she watched him pay the man and, instead of leaving, he began eating the chestnuts. She didn't want to get on line and then have to leave, so she pretended to be interested in buying a magazine. The salesboy looked at her once, she smiled meekly, and continued her perusal of whatever she could put her hands on, one eye on Denby. There he stood, in this cold winter's night. So, what? Just pay for the stuff and leave, Diane, you're acting like a schoolgirl.

And she did, walking timidly over to him, not making a sound.

"Hello."

He turned to her then, a brilliant smile. "Diane."

She pointed to the drug store behind her, "I was just picking up some shampoo and, well...there you were."

"And here you are."

He offered the bag to her, "No, thanks."

They walked in silence, he ate, then threw the bag in a trashcan. Slipping his hands inside his pockets, there it was. Give it to her.

"Never got your glove back, did you?"

"No. How do you know that?"

"Because..." He pulled it out of his pocket. "I have it."

She stared at the glove then at Denby. "How did you get this?"

"Trade secret, Detective."

Smiling, she took out its match, and stopped a moment to put them on. "Well, thank you."

"You're welcome." His stomach shook into pieces just looking at her, as did his hands. He shoved them in his pockets.

"Men can wear gloves, too, you know." She looked at his hands in his pockets.

He stopped then, and looked down into her eyes. "Not this one."

Just those few words, spoken like silk and full of emotion, made her stop, as well. He was too near, too close, and too damn handsome. What she saw in his face, scared the hell out of her. Pick your feet up and walk away now, get away, don't let him make you feel weak.

She broke the moment, intentionally, although it seemed to melt her insides to do so. "I have to go. I really have to go…home, I have to get home."

Denby smiled, put his hands on her shoulders, and turned her around -- "You are home."

"Oh. Well, that was very bright of me to notice." Shit! That was beyond stupid. She dropped her head, furiously embarrassed. "Don't say another word, Denby." He had moved closer to her, and she could feel his breath in her hair.

"Good-night, Diane."

Off he went, leaving her wide-eyed and breathless.

*

"Merry Christmas." Danny put an oblong box on her desk, decoratively wrapped in red checkered paper. Care of Macy's, she secretly noted.

He looked so anxious. "Thanks, Danny. You didn't have to do this." It was Christmas Eve, and the precinct was having their annual open house in the downstairs conference room.

"I know, but I wanted to. You don't have to open it now, maybe later, not that it's a big deal or nothing." Danny gawked, a boyish yet endearing twinkle in his eye.

She placed it on her typewriter. "There. So I won't forget to open it before I leave for the day."

Fancy approached her and Kate. "I hate to break this up, but I have a double homicide, here's the address. Two squad cars are there now, the area's been concealed; Kate, Diane, would you mind? Apparently, there's a witness, a young girl, with one of the officers, away from any reporters. You can question her here."

"Sure, boss. Let me grab my coat. Kate?" Diane gave her a look.

Danny said, "I'll come along, too, seeing that Andy shoved off early today."

"Let's go." Diane gave Fancy a smile and they left.

*

There was no need to flash their IDs. Officer Mike Shannon approached them. Kate threw Diane a secretive grin, Diane threw it back.

"How'z it goin'?" He put his hands on his hips, walked over to Danny, who led the way. Nodding his head to Diane and Kate, he began, "The witness is a 15-year old female, she's in my unit; Diane, you or your partner may want to give me a hand."

Diane looked over at Kate, "She's all yours, Kate, right up your alley."

"Hang on a moment." Pulling aside another officer, Shannon directed him to take Danny and Diane inside the apartment building.

"Thanks, Shannon. Let's take a look inside." Danny and Diane left.

Shannon walked over to the squad car with Kate, "You want privacy?"

Kate could see the girl sitting on the other side of the car, clenching the door handle, scared to death of what she just saw. She looked up at Shannon, and said, "Yes, but not here in the back of your squad car. She's too young and scared, and it might be too intimidating for my initial questioning; I need to be someplace other than the crime scene. Will you take us down to the precinct?"

"Sure," he said, staring like a schoolboy. OK, stupid, she knows what she's doing, she's an ex-FBI agent, he thought. Although, in his opinion, she was better suited to be on the cover of Vogue. "Let me tell Sorensen and Russell that they're on their own." Off he went.

Sitting in the back of the car, next to this devastated young girl, Kate noticed the way Shannon had trouble keeping his eyes on the road. A few times, she'd catch his gaze in the rear view mirror, then she'd quickly look away.

Kate hadn't ever been alone with Shannon, she'd only seen him from a distance. And she knew he watched her whenever she passed him at the house. She recalled the night he came to the squad room with that lame excuse just to see her; and Andy embarrassed the shit out of him. In the mirror, she caught a look at him once or twice. Maybe it was the dim lighting, but he did have a boyish way about him that she found attractive. You're checking out uniforms again, aren't you? You swore yourself off of them ever since John. Just then, he caught her stare; she looked away.

What she did not know was that right now, to Officer Shannon, she was breathtaking. The cold night air gave her rosy cheeks, her long, red curls swirling around her, she looked like a witch, and the curse was on him; and those eyes of blue. Christ, Shannon, get her downtown in one piece.

*

Diane and Danny walked back into the precinct, passing the conference room where the party was just getting started. It would go through the night, accommodating the shift officers and anyone else who wanted a glass of unspiked-punch.

Diane removed her coat, and decided to sneak into the observer's room with the one-way mirror. Opening the door quietly, there in the dark - watching Kate - was Shannon.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't know anyone was in here." Diane felt like she was intruding on a private moment that only he wanted for himself. He was standing in a corner in the small, dark room, arms crossed, staring at Kate through the glass. She was sweet, feminine, coaxing, with a voice as soft as lace, totally vulnerable to the observer on the other side of the glass. She wondered if Kate knew she had an audience, not that it mattered -- Kate was very, very good.

He spoke first, not taking his eyes off of her. "Where have you been keeping her?" Adding to himself, she's hypnotic.

"She's my partner, Shannon, get in line." Diane caught his grin.

*

He folded his pocketsize cell phone, pushed the antennae down, and put it inside his trench coat pocket. He looked around for his partner, felt the exhaustion set into his lower spine, and just wanted to go home, take a shower, and go to sleep. He spotted Rudy over by the bulkhead, familiar place for a man who couldn't find a toilet in these parts. Shit, he had taken a piss in just about every porthole on the Hudson. He flashed the highbeams, Rudy turned, and strolled over.

"Can't a guy take a leak in peace?" Rudy smiled, got in and asked what the status was on their relief.

Denby said, "The good news is they'll be here, the bad news is, we have to pick them up ourselves and switch cars. It seems they decided to stop in and see some of their buddies at the1-5, Christmas party or something, got hung up, and then the battery died. The only undercover sedan on the lot tonight is this piece of shit. "

"Well, Jesus H. Christ, who do they think we are? Bud's freakin' Limo Service?" Rudy was pissed. "I was supposed to meet Teresa forty-five minutes ago to finish Christmas shopping, her family, mind you, not that it really matters a rat's ass that we even get those cheap bastards anything at all…." Rudy went off on one of his tirades and Denby just let him go.

"Look, I'm dropping you off at the train, go ahead and meet your wife. I'll swing by the station, leave the car for these pansies, and that'll be it. OK?" Denby pulled over to the sidewalk, gave his partner a shove, and said, "Get out. And make sure you pick out a navy tie for me, last year, it was red."

"You're an asshole, buddy, but that's why I love you." Rudy nodded, smiled and slammed the door.

*

Parking the sedan outside in the visitor's section, Denby took a deep breath. He couldn't bring himself to show his face here. They didn't trust him, neither did she, not completely. His confidence was still shaken, parts of his spirit shattered. He thought about drinking, maybe all the time. It had given him the courage to look death, evil, scumbags, women, Diane, in the eye and feel no sorrow or pain. He swallowed, feeling the familiar sensation, like hot fire sliding down his throat, it burned his darkest hours away. He looked at his hands, gripped tightly to the steering wheel, they still shook, not all the time, but enough, and he made sure his overcoats always had pockets.

Well, let me get this over with. He got out and slowly walked into the precinct. DiMarco, the desk sergeant, nodded to Denby. "Don't tell me you bad boys from Narc are raiding the joint, it's just cookies and punch, I swear!" Putting his hands up in mock surrender.

"I'm off-duty, Joe. Just looking for Williams and his partner. Any idea if they're still here?" Denby asked.

"Have a look for yourself. Down the hallway on your left, briefing room." DiMarco pointed casually over his shoulder.

Just as Denby was about to turn, something caught his attention overhead. He slowly raised his eyes upward and, above him, standing at the top of the stairs, was Shannon….and Diane. He stopped. "You all right, Denby?" DiMarco asked.

"Yeah, yeah." She hadn't noticed him, so he quickly stepped as far back from the main desk as possible. There was so much noise going on behind him, he thought for sure she would glance down below and see him. But she didn't. Oh, shit, there's Sorensen. Now all I need is Baldwin and Sippy to really make me feel better about my life. If I make a move, she'll see me - then I'll feel obligated to go up there. His hands began to shake, and he dug them into his pockets.

She saw him, then; she would feel his eyes anywhere. He stood down below by the sergeant's desk. "Yeah, thanks, Shannon." She turned her attention back to what Mike was saying.

"Tell your partner I said goodnight," Shannon smiled, then took the stairs, heading towards Denby. He appeared to be glued, and she could tell by the look on this face, that he had no intentions of putting in an appearance on her turf.

"Here's your coat, Diane." It was Danny, ever the planner and thinker. "And here's your gift, which you haven't opened yet."

Diane let him help with her coat, all the while feeling Denby's eyes on her. OK, so Shannon's talking your ear off, and you have no idea what he's saying because you're too busy staring up at me and watching Danny, the coat, the gift, the whole thing; and I feel as though I have to justify this ….. She got a hot flash. Crap, if I faint again, in front of him, oh, God, just take me now!

She turned her attention completely on Danny, and told herself to focus on him. She began to open the present, trying to turn her back on Denby, but Danny put his arm around her shoulder and kept her there. Shit! "I knew you lost one of your gloves, Diane, so I thought you could use a new pair." Her heart skipped several beats. Gloves. New gloves from Danny. Not the old glove Denby found, the one that matched her own, the one that she had been looking for, but new gloves. The symmetry was like a blast of cold water in her face. She turned to see him, to make sure he saw her choice, but he was gone.

"Thanks, Danny, that was very sweet." She shoved the box and gloves in her coat pocket. Too many wounds, not quite healed. Some of them hers - and, well, most of them his.

Denby had seen the exchange, the gloves. And something told him he knew which ones she preferred. He walked into the party, briefly showed his face to some buddies, then got a hold of Williams. "Here," Denby said, tossing him the keys, "it's the dark blue sedan parked in visitors. Good luck. It's a bigger piece of shit than the one that already died on you tonight." With that, he turned and left by way of the rear exit.

*

ONE WEEK LATER

*

"Always glad to see the holidays come and go," Kate said, watching her partner in the mirror. They had just arrived at the precinct, a blustery day outside - cold, but full of sunshine. "Days like this remind me of home."

Diane watched Kate fluff her hair and pinch her cheeks. "That's it? No lipstick, nothing?"

Kate smiled. "Do I need it?"

"The way the male population drools over you now? I'd say no." Diane applied her new pink lipstick. "Shannon ever get his nerve up?"

"Not yet." Kate gave her a sideways look. "Why?"

Diane hadn't told her about that night in the observer's room. "Let me just say, he's quite smitten, Kate. And if you don't put him out of his misery soon, he's going to die a very unhappy man."

"What do you recommend, that I throw myself at his feet the next time he comes up here with a collar? Or, jump him in the coffee room?" Kate laughed, and thought this would be a good point in their conversation to bring up her morning visitor. "Speaking of admirers, your phantom detective was here this morning."

Diane eyed her in the mirror. "Denby?"

"In the flesh. And looking mighty sexy. Tweed blazer, crisp white shirt, expensive looking pin-stripe navy tie. Yup, pretty darned sexy, if you ask me." She waited for a reaction.

"Well, now that we've established the fact that he's sexy and dresses well..." Diane crossed her arms and began tapping her foot. She waited.

Kate let her wait, but not for long. "OK, OK, he asked me to give this to you." She took a beige envelope out of her jacket, handing it to Diane.

Now what kind of sexual innuendo has he come up with? She glanced at Kate through her lashes. Smiling, she opened it.

She slid out two tickets - basketball tickets - Celtics game, as he promised. But, why two? "Look," Kate said, "there's a note in the envelope." Diane pulled it out and read it aloud, with Kate leaning over her shoulder:

Diane,

Here are a couple of tickets for and your partner. I'll meet you courtside at the Garden, this Friday night, eight o'clock; I'll explain then.

Denby

Kate looked at Diane, "Can I die now? I've never been to Madison Square Garden, ever. And, they're courtside seats? Like, right next to all the celebrities? We're going, right? I mean, please, let's go."

Diane looked at their reflections in the mirror. "Courtside seats, all right." How did he get these? "You don't have to go, you know; I mean, if you don't want to."

"Are you crazy? This is the best offer I've had in months." Kate squealed.

*

Diane and Kate took their seats, courtside. "I brought a camera…" Kate began.

"And if you pull it out, I'm going to slap you right here in front of that NBC TV camera and everyone in America will know that you're an asshole." Diane gritted her teeth, smiled and spoke very deliberately. "OK?"

Kate said, smiling from ear to ear. "Yes. I promise. Now, where is your elusive, and very handsome detective? By the way, does he have a first name?"

"Harry."

"Harry." Kate asked again, "Harry?"

"Yes, Harry, and he's probably working or something." Diane said.

"Hi, ladies." It was Mike Shannon, his hands on the back of their chairs.

Surprised to find him there, Diane asked, "What are you doing here?"

"Well, a friend had an extra ticket and told me that if I took it, I'd find myself in the presence of two of the most attractive detectives from the 1-5, and that I should keep my eye on them both until he arrived." Kate looked at Diane, they both knew who he meant. "Speak of the devil," Shannon said.

The devil, indeed. No trench coat, no suit, no tie; instead, Levi's, worn and straight-legged, work boots, Knicks' jacket. He looked like...a kid.

She grinned and watched him walk over to her -- never taking their eyes off of each other. He smiled, mostly at her. Kate thought, there is no one else in this place tonight except her.

"Good evening, Detective Denby." Kate said, smiling her brightest, but he didn't notice.

"Yes, it is, isn't it."

"Well, there's one empty seat, Denby, and it's back here next to me. Interested?" Shannon was playing with him.

"No." He just stared at Diane.

He wants me to sit next to Shannon? Well, why didn't he just say so. "I'm interested," Kate began, looking at Denby, then Shannon, then reddened, "in the seat, that is." Shannon caught the double meaning.

Leaning in to apologize for being late, he spoke above a whisper, above the noise, so she could hear him. She smelled his cologne, or was that just soap? "I'm sorry. I had to escort a witness out of a hotel in Atlantic City, I just got back in town an hour ago." She shook her head slightly, an acceptance of his explanation. He leaned in again, rather impulsively, as if to say something else, but backed away. You're beautiful. He couldn't bring himself to tell her, not yet.

She looked up at him, her face so close to his -- she knew she blushed, deeply, and, quite unintentionally, her eyes fell to his mouth. She was in a trance again; she really couldn't understand the immense effect this man had on her.

Neither could he, all he knew was that he wanted her.

THE END