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Kim taps the edge of the Kineema's open window rhythmically, as he sits in standstill traffic. It's a warm and pleasant summer evening, bathed in the rich light of the setting sun. He daydreams for a minute about climbing onto the roof of Harry's apartment complex when he gets there, so that they can watch the aerostatics come in to land. It would be a nice way to pass a summer night, if it weren't for the circumstances.Revachol West is unrecognizable to Kim, in spite of living here his entire life. Huge stretches of streets are virtually abandoned, with shuttered storefronts, and patrolling soldiers. No one wants to get too close to the checkpoints unless they have to, and so even the unhoused and destitute avoid these areas when they can. The entire block around him would feel like a ghost town, if it weren't for the line of motor carriages waiting to be allowed to exit the highway.
As surreal as the situation is, the mood of the city is eerily familiar to him, from the vaguest recesses of his early memory.When the vehicle in front of him moves, Kim pulls the brake lever and allows the Kineema's idling engine to roll him forward a couple of meters. Every time he goes through a checkpoint, he worries his precious carriage will stand out, even with coat of drab black paint that he and Harry put on it a few weeks ago.
He wonders how much longer he'll be allowed to keep it.
Nonsense. This is an RCM vehicle, it's not going anywhere.
He reaches the stop line painted on the ground and engages the brake again. A wholly unnecessary flashlight shines directly into his eyes not a second later. 
It is nearly as blinding as the sun. He throws his hand up to blot it out, scrunching his eyes closed. When he cracks them open again, the only thing he can make out are the feet of three people standing in front of him. Two are clad in white porcelain boots.

His stomach drops.

They both knew this was a trap, but, what choice did they have? The Moralintern is closing in on them, taking away their case notes and covering up something. They have to find out what and who they are protecting, before they lose the chance.
They have to know if this really is the beginning of a civil war.

To his left, Harry complains about the rude greeting. Kim admires the man's bravery; the way he can stand and speak with a steady tone, the way that he doesn't flinch from the questions he wants to ask, even when held at gunpoint. He keeps the people talking for as long as he can, trying to weasel them to a solution that doesn't end in blood.

He fails.
 "License," an Oranjen voice barks from behind the light.Kim shakes off the memory, and reaches up to shield his eyes. With some protection from the glare, he can make out the face of the man in the INSURCOM uniform. He can't be older than twenty five.
Just a kid, really.
He manages to keep the scowl of displeasure off his face as he offers his badge to him. "Lieutenant Kim Kitsuragi. I'm an officer with the RCM, Precinct 41.""Destination," the kid demands."I am headed to the home of my partner, Lieutenant Double-Yfreitor Harrier Du Bois," he reports flatly. Kim recites the address without paying attention to his own words, well used to this routine by now."Du Bois is also of Precinct 41?"
The question is inane.
He is stalling.

Controlling the rate of traffic entering the neighborhood.
Kim raises his brow at him, staring directly at the soldier in spite of the blinding light.The kid doesn't ask for clarification. Instead, he scribbles down some notes and then hands his badge back to him.
"Cleared," he says. Kim is just reaching down to release the brake lever again, when the man stops him.
"Wait- what is that?" He taps on the side of the carriage, peeking through the open window into the back seat.
Don't scratch my Kineema.
The lieutenant glances over his shoulder at the object that drew the soldier's attention. It's a small-ish rectangular cardboard box in solid black. The box itself has no label on it, but a stray bit of unbleached tissue paper is poking out from under the lid.
Without a word, Kim reaches back and grabs it. He opens the box, presenting the contents to the armed guard.The young man makes a vaguely disgusted face.
In that moment, his humanity is restored to him. Kim can see a real person, with feelings, a family, and maybe even politics that don't match up to his job.
A clock-puncher, trying to finish his service in order to pay for a University degree, perhaps?
It does not change his feelings toward the kid."Eugh, that's awful," he comments, before stepping back from the carriage window. He motions for the officer to drive through. "Go on. Remember that curfew is 21:00. RCM will no longer be exempt, starting Monday," he informs him.
What? Absurd to put the RCM under curfew. We protect the people of this city.

They are INSURCOM. The RCM means nothing to them.
He doesn't allow his reaction to the news to show on his face. Kim just puts the lid back on the small box, and tosses it back onto the seat. As the roadblock vanishes behind him, he accelerates to a more regular speed. Out of habit, he reaches for the radio- but his fingers stop and just hover in front of the dial.
Loud music lowers your awareness, Kisturagi.

It would be smarter to listen to the news.

The news is depressing.
He decides to leave the radio off instead.
As he turns a corner, he sees a batch of posters with photos and names, papering the outer wall of a pub. The fading sunlight is just enough for him to be able to make them out.
They are wanted posters for "terrorist insurgents," but they do not show any familiar faces. So far the rebels of C-wing, and those in other RCM precincts, have managed to keep their names clean.When he stops at the traffic light, he is able to finally read the smaller text underneath each photo. Reward amounts, offered to anyone who directly leads to the capture of the rebel on the poster. INSURCOM is paying out anywhere from 30 reál to 150, depending on the person.
That amount is nothing to the Coalition, but it's a lot for the people of Jamrock.

It puts working families in a very tough position.
Graffito is sprayed over many of the posters, with messages like "INSURCOM SCUM" and "REVACHOL FOREVER." It seem that people are refreshingly stalwart. They are unwilling to turn on each other at the behest of a foreign power, even if it means forgoing money that they badly need.It's not a small sacrifice for them to make. The lieutenant reaches his boyfriend's block of flats five minutes later, and parks along the curb right out front. The meter in this spot was vandalized in the initial riots after INSURCOM declared martial law, making payment impossible. It has worked out nicely for Kim, since he no longer has to park around the corner to avoid the fee.He grabs the little box off the back seat, and then makes his way across the run down garden in front of the lobby door. It's filled with weeds, crab grass, and fallow flower beds. "Affordable Housing- Reimagined!" is boasted on the sign out front in fading yellow letters. 15 years ago, this place was genuinely trying to provide a nice atmosphere at a reasonable price.He checks his watch as he crosses the yard. He is about 10 minutes early, even with the checkpoint slowing him down.
Maybe I was a little over eager to see him.
There's a heavy brick sitting just outside the lobby door, often used by residents and by Kim himself to prop open the door when ducking out for a smoke. Today, however, it is unused, and the door's electronic lock is engaged.
He presses the buzzer on the call box for Harry's flat, before looking up toward the sky to admire the last of the sunset. Its light is beginning to merge with the orange glow of the sodium street lamps, one bleeding into the other in a seamless transition.Kim taps his foot idly as he waits, eventually hitting the buzzer again. The sun is almost completely down, now, hiding behind all the buildings, but it's still more than warm enough outside. In another couple of weeks, he won't want to wear his jacket around at all, anymore.There is still no answer.
The lieutenant looks at the face of his watch, the radium glow illuminating even in the dark. It's been 15 minutes now. It's not that much time, but he feels his chest clench in worry in spite of himself.
He's run off and relapsed again.
He buries the thought deep down inside himself. "That you, Kim?" Finally, Harry's voice comes through the speaker box. It sounds flattened and crackly from the distortion.He clears his throat. "Yes, it's me.""Sorry, I was in the shower," the detective explains lightly.
The mechanism of the door clicks as it unlocks. "Come on up!"The lieutenant's feet move almost on their own, and he's so distracted in his own thoughts that he almost takes the stairs. He has to stop himself- he is still weakened from the gunshot wound he sustained a few weeks ago, so soon after the wounds he received in Martinaise too. It's better to take the elevator, these days.
It's faster too. Less than a minute later, he is arriving to his boyfriend's door. When he goes to knock, he notices a black and white flier pinned to it.

Électricité Jamrock

Save power - Help the fight against terrorism!

Customers who can reduce their electricity use below 10 kWh a day are eligible for a rebate. INSURCOM will double the savings on your electric bill! Call 0-805- E-J-A-M for details.
 He pulls it off the door, his face creased into a small frown. He's just turning his head to see if there are more tacked up on the other apartments, when Harry's door swings open."Kim!" the yfreitor greets him with enthusiasm and a beaming smile. He is wearing nothing but a towel around his waist.The smile is infectious, and in spite of his troubled mood, the lieutenant can feel his lips pulling into a small, subtle smirk in return. He glances up and down his boyfriend's mostly nude body, appreciating the sight, but he doesn't let his eyes linger. "Good evening, Detective."
He wads the flier up in his hand, and shoves it into his pocket as he steps inside."I'm just going to put some pants on, but you can sit down," Harry motions toward the living area.Kim turns on the lamp standing in the corner before he sits on the secondhand green couch. He and Jean helped Harry move it into his place just a couple weeks back. It was a lot of work, especially because the couch didn't fit in the elevator, but it was worth it. It's so much better than the lumpy, worn out thing that it replaced."Are you thirsty?" his boyfriend call out from the other room.
Come here if you want to speak to me.
"No, thank you," he replies at a normal volume, unable to keep the tinge of annoyance out of his voice. He doesn't love this habit of his.Harry wanders back out of his bedroom, wearing his grey sweatpants and still no shirt at all.
Kim feels a small prickle of jealousy at the sight. His scar is still too unsightly for him to walk around shirtless like that."What?" The detective asks."I said 'no thank you,'" he repeats. If Harry picks up on the hint he is trying to give him, he shows no sign of it.The man sits down beside him by allowing all his weight to collapse onto the sofa at once. The furniture creaks under the effort.
"What's that?" The detective gestures to the box in his lap.
You're going to break your couch if you keep doing that, Harry.
"Oh, it's nothing, really." Kim lets the thought fall away as he passes the box over to his boyfriend. "Just something I saw and thought you might like."
As if you and Jean didn't spend an entire afternoon looking for it.

The man complained the whole time, too.

But he still helped.
 Harry takes the box from him and holds it gingerly, as if something precious and delicate might be inside. He lifts the lid, revealing the gift: a tie printed with purposeful paint splatters, in the style of a famous abstract artist. To Art People, it's probably impressive, but Kim has never considered himself very savvy in "the arts."
He thinks it's hideous.The detective's eyes get a little wide as he stares down at it. The seconds tick by on the wall clock, without him moving, or saying a word.
This is taking too long.

He doesn't like it.

Well that's sensible of him. No one should like it.

You should have known you'd never be able to replace his tie, Kitsruragi. He had an unnatural attachment to it.
"Khm," Kim clears his throat. "I know it's not a perfect replacement for the one you lost in Martinaise. If you don't like it, I can return it. I have the recei-" he can't even finish the sentence, because all at once Harry is throwing his arms around. The little box is tossed somewhere across the room, no longer needed.
Are those tears in his eyes?
"I love it!" He says, his voice cracking slightly. "Kim, it's perfect." The man kisses his lips briefly, and then pulls away so he can put it on."Don't you want to wear a shirt with it?" The lieutenant can't stop the bemused words from leaving his mouth as he watches Harry's thick fingers tie a surprisingly formal knot around his naked neck."But I want to wear it right away!""What have I done?" he mutters to himself dryly. In spite of the remark, though, he has to hide his mouth with one hand look the other way to disguise his smile. Harry shifts next to him, and then drops his head into his lip.
When Kim looks down, he sees the man gazing up at him with big puppy like eyes, petting the length of his tie as if it were a cat. "So how long do I get you for?""Only a few days," the lieutenant looks at his watch out of habit. It doesn't have a calendar on it, but, looking at it helps him to think about time. "Eventually I have to go back and water my houseplant.""What about Vivienne?" Harry asks. "I thought she was going to look after it for you."He shakes his head. "She left to stay with her family in Sur-la-Clef."
Anyone who can leave Revachol now, will. No one wants to be here while there's a war.

Everyone is afraid the borders will be shut down eventually.
For the first time since he was a little boy, Kim has a fleeting wish that he knew his relatives in Seol. Maybe then, he could flee the war too. He would have somewhere to go.He pushes the thought far away."You could come home with me when it's time to go back," he suggests, putting his focus back on his actual life. Things may be hard, but, the detective doesn't have any pets or plants to look after. It makes more sense for him to come stay with Kim than the other way around.Harry thinks for a moment.
"Maybe," he says. "I want to! But, I've got things in this neighborhood that I need to take care of, too. We'll see how it goes."
Gone are the days when it was a simple as running home for an afternoon. Frequent traffic through the checkpoints can be seen as suspect.
Kim nods in understanding. He's not sure what these 'things' entail, but more than anyone, he understands duty getting in the way of his personal life. "In the meantime," Harry rolls over awkwardly, so he's laying on his stomach, still half draped over his lap, "I've got the entire weekend with you here, just for me." He runs his hand up his chest, looking up at him playfully.The sight of his lover laying there, trying to seduce him, should stir something in the lieutenant, but he feels a little untethered. It's like being in a dream.
Going through the checkpoint always puts me in a bad mood.

He knows that. He's trying to help.
Harry seems undaunted by the lieutenant's lack of a reaction. He slides his hands slowly up underneath Kim's shirt.The sensation doesn't do anything to help pull him back to the moment, but he tries to drum up a little enthusiasm in himself anyway. "What did you have in mind?" he asks. He rubs the man’s back in little, methodical circles, trying to ease some tension in the muscle there."Oh, I can think of so many things," Harry's voice rumbles. He scoots up and kisses him, and then starts to rain little kisses along Kim's jaw.He tilts his head slightly and closes his eyes, letting his partner do as he wishes. His hands travel down the man's sides with no real direction or intent.
Why can't I just be here with him?

You can. Just focus, Kitsuragi.
He wants nothing more than to have a beautiful evening with his boyfriend and not think about all the things that are looming over their heads, and so he tries. He kisses him back a little bit, and lets one hand tangle into the man's wild hair.
Harry likes it when he pulls a little, and so he does, but his hands are moving autonomously.
What if they stop letting us through the checkpoints? How will we see each other then?

We are RCM. They can't stop us.

They're stopping us from going out after curfew. How long will that title still mean anything?

The time will come when it doesn't. And that's when things will be real.
 "Baby?" 
When there's no more need for us to keep up appearances, Le Retour will be put in full motion.

I still can't believe that Harry roped me into an armed rebellion.

Foolish Mazrovian idealist.

You love that about him.

It was always going to be this way, in the end. I was never going to side against Revachol.

And we all knew peace couldn't last forever.
 "Kim?"He can feel a gentle touch on his cheek, bringing him back from his thoughts.His boyfriend is staring into his eyes, brows furrowed as he strokes his cheek.He feels a stab of guilt. His lover deserves his attention, not to be an afterthought. "I'm sorry, Harry," he looks down to the side, avoiding his gaze."Hey, it's okay, baby," the man's beard scratches his face as he kisses his forehead.
He snuggles up against his side, giving up on the idea of sex. "What's on your mind?" 
War.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

"I've had 7 drinks, just since noon."
The blonde man fidgets in his folding chair, unable to sit still as he speaks. "Sara said she would leave me if I ever drank again- what am I going to do?" He leans over, hiding his face in his hands.A beat of silence falls over the room. None of the addicts sitting around in the circle really know what to say, even though they have all been in similar places.
A woman to the distraught man's left sets her hand on his shoulder. "I know, Marcel," she tries to console him."You have to tell her," Harry says with a solemn frown on his face, as he watches the drunk man across from him begin to cry.Marcel shakes his head. "No, no, she's going to leave if I do that," he resists.
That will be the end for him.
"Yeah," the detective agrees with a sympathetic nod, "she might leave, but hiding it... That doesn't work out. Trust me, I've tried that." He leans forward in his chair, resting his arms against his knees.
"You can't hide a relapse forever, man. If she finds out on her own, she's definitely going to leave, but if you go to her first? If you tell her the truth, tell her you don't want to lie to her, you just messed up? Well... maybe she still leaves, but... maybe she doesn't this time.""What do you know?" The drunk scowls at him, anger taking over in place of fear. "You've got a boyfriend who sticks by you! You don't have to face this kind of thing!"Harry cracks a bittersweet smile. "Yeah," he agrees. "He's more understanding than most people. But he would still leave me if he thought I stopped making an effort."
Saying it out loud gives him a lump of anxiety at the back of his throat. "Harry is right."
The doctor running the support group crosses his legs, his trousers riding up a few inches. He is younger than the detective, with neatly kept hair and a clean shaven face.
He looks like a nerd.

No he doesn't. He looks like a put together, well educated man.

He's wearing sock suspenders.
"Relapses are going to happen,” Dr. Smith continues. “You can't control how Sara will respond, but hiding it from her creates more problems down the road. If you really want to keep her in your life, you have to gain control over the behaviors that drive people away."Marcel just lets out a wailing sound, too wild and emotional to listen to reason. He pulls away from the woman sitting next to him.
"None of you get it!" He yells. "It's all so easy for you, but this is it for me! She's going to leave me and then I'll have no one. Nothing. She's all I have to live for anymore." He gets up suddenly and starts toward the door.
Don't let him leave.
 Harry hops to his feet quickly, and dashes across the circle of chairs. He catches the man by the arm just as he's opening the door, and holds him firmly.
"Hey, hey, buddy. They might not get it, but I do," he promises. "I know the place you're at, and listen: trying to run away from my life has never made it better. Never." He doesn't remember much of anything from before waking up in Martinaise, but that doesn't make it less true. He's certain of this truth the way he's certain he has bones.The man tries to yank himself free, but Harry’s grip is a vice. He’s bigger and stronger than just about everyone else in the room, and he isn’t above using his bulk to keep him from running off and doing something stupid."Maybe you think I've got it all figured out now, but I really don't." He tugs him back toward his chair and pushes on his shoulders, forcing him to sit down again. “I'm not some role model or anything... I'm just another washed up bum trying my best."
He stands over him, his hands still on the man's shoulders, nervous that if he lets go, Marcel will make another break for it. The only thing that waits for the guy if he leaves while in crisis is death, or worse.
Seeing another addict break down only makes it that much harder to resist.
 The drunk wraps his arms around himself, slumping down in his seat and giving up the idea of leaving. "I don't want to hurt her, but I'm going to. It doesn't matter what I do. That's my punishment for being such a piece of shit.""Take a deep breath, Marcel," the doctor says. "Remember, you don't always feel this bad. This will pass. Let me get you some water."
He gets up and goes to the table in the back of the room where there is water, coffee, and some chocolate biscuits."I feel that, mate," Harry says to him. "I really do. Doesn't mean it's true, though." He holds him in place until the doctor comes back with water in a little paper cup. He lets him go slowly, ready to grab him again if he needs to.The doctor hands Marcel the cup.
"No one gets here by having great self esteem," he nods in agreement with Harry's words. Neither of them know how the guy treats his girlfriend, but everyone in the room knows the kind of all consuming hopelessness that can accompany a relapse.
"I think we should work on some techniques to fight these kinds of thoughts," Dr. Smith adds. "Things are only going to get worse. I want to make sure you're all as prepared as possible." He moves back to his chair, and motions for Harry to take his seat again as well. Marcel looks up from his water. "How can it get worse than this?"The question makes Harry pause on his way back to his seat. "I think you know how," he says. "Look out the window, Marcel. There's a war out there!"
The air in the room feels suddenly charged, as if mentioning the civil unrest just shattered some kind of taboo. "Revachol is being invaded," he adds. "So the doctor is right, we have to be strong."
These poor people have no idea how to get through what’s coming.

But you do. You need a little speed to keep you sharp.

No, shut up. Drugs aren’t going to make wartime more pleasant.

A feeble lie.

Drugs make everything more pleasant.

Okay, maybe they would make it easier to cope. But that doesn’t make it a good idea.
"All some of us have is this group," Harry says in a slightly louder voice, addressing the room now. "There's no way any of us get through this war intact unless we lean on each other."
He stands up straight, basking under the sudden attention. He feels a little like being on the karaoke stage, with a crowd of people waiting to be inspired, spread out before him."Thank you, Harry," Dr. Smith says, motioning again toward the chair.
Sit down before you get carried away.

No, what they need right now is a superstar.

You know how to give a pep talk, coach.
 He takes off his green blazer and hangs it over one shoulder. Underneath, he's wearing a yellow, tropical printed shirt, and the tie that Kim gave him yesterday. The patterns clash horribly.
"War wasn't what any of us wanted," he says heroically, "but we've all known it was coming, all our lives."
That's it, my liege!
"And we're not just going to be fighting with tanks, and guns," he goes on. He lets his vowels elongate a little bit into a bit of drawl. "They're aiming for our spirit. This war'll be as much as a test of our gumption as our strength."
What is this accent?
"So you will have to stay sharp. Y'all can't lose your focus now, boys, not on the eve of battle."
This is a poor impression of Guillaume Le Million's already bad accent in Two Tickets to Mesque; an action film about a stranger who comes to tame the wild frontier, and ends up leading a group of indigenous people in rebellion against the other settlers.
The doctor is looking up at him with an unamused expression. "Sit down please, Harry."Harry doesn’t sit down.
"Yes," he goes on, leaning in to his vague impression of the scene he is trying to mimic, "Y'all have to fight for your home; your very way of life." He starts to walk toward his chair, choosing to go the long way, around the outside of the circle. He takes each step slowly.
You went to that movie in your twenties on a date with a punk who went only by "Greed."

You were so enraptured by Guillaume Le Million on the silver screen that you failed to notice that Greed wanted to make out with you in the back row.

You didn't get a second date.

But the film was a true work of art, an instant classic!

Critics didn't agree. Two Tickets to Mesque is rated 2 out of 10 stars and was heavily criticized for being an unoriginal white-savior story. It is the most well known movie from Guillaume Le Million's short stint in film. Revachol forgave him after he stopped trying to be a movie star, and the whole thing was brushed under the rug of history.
 “I won't lie, kids. Some of us'll fall along the way, and the only way we come out the other side is gon' be to help your brother. So when the addict next to you stumbles, you answer that call. The greatest thing you'll ever do."
When he finally reaches his his chair, he puts one foot up on it, posing a little bit. Dramatic, but casual.
He was smoking a cigarette in this scene.

You really need a smoke.
“That’s enough,” the doctor says firmly, pinching the bridge of his nose."Y'all might drink spirits. You might take speed, maybe even sniff some snow," he taps the side of his bulbous nose for emphasis, "but just remember when the world gets darkest-""Harrier!"
The doctor actually raises his voice a little this time. “I said, ‘that’s enough.’"
He's not playing around anymore.
"Sorry Dr. Smith," he finally sits down and folds his hands into his lap.
He's just jealous over your performance, sire.

You were only trying to help. Warn them of what’s coming, inspire them.

No one ever wants to listen to the harbingers of The End.
The doctor doesn't acknowledge his apology.
“I’m glad you chose to stay, Marcel,” he says, regaining control over the session at last. "Harry isn't entirely wrong, these are stressful times. I want you all to be as gentle on yourselves as you can. Be forgiving of yourself when you struggle, and talk to your friends and family; anyone at all who is still in your life. Tell them they need to be extra patient with you through this conflict. They can call me if they have questions about that.” -- A few hours later, Harry steps into his flat with a bag of groceries in his arms. "Kim?" he calls.His partner looks up from the living room, where he is sitting and reading. He gets up right away, to come help him put the food away.
"Hello, Detective. How did your meeting go?""Oh, uh..."
Terrible. You made a fool of yourself.
The memory of Marcel wailing still lingers in his mind. It made it hard, when he stopped for groceries, to avoid buying himself a drink or three. "It was fine," he says, not wanting to get into it.
He sets the bag down and begins to unpack it. "Did you hear the news?" He asks, much preferring to talk about that than his meeting.Thankfully, his partner doesn't seem to pick up on his discomfort. "You will have to be more specific than that," Kim says, "there is a lot of news these days."
His eyes fall onto a bundle of brown butcher paper as it comes out of the bag. "Is that steak?" he asks with interest. "That's a fancy meal."The detective glances to the side, avoiding his eyes. "Yeah," he says. “It was on sale.”
It still cost you the rest of your money.
"How lucky for us," the lieutenant remarks happily as he puts away the ice-cream. He starts to wash some of the vegetables for him."Yeah, " Harry nods in agreement, setting a pan out on the stove and adding a little oil. "Especially with rationing on its way. I was lucky to get it.""Rationing?” Kim frowns at that as he picks at the knot in the twine around the first steak."So you didn't hear, then," he nods along. "I'm surprised, it was all over the radio. We should all be getting ration books in the mail soon."His partner's frown deepens a little, and he goes silent.
Why is it us who has to be rationed, he’s wondering. INSURCOM should support their own soldiers, not force the people they are subjugating to do it for them.

Food taken out of your mouths to feed the occupying army.

It's a tactical choice.

A brutal one.
 He is ready for the steak to go in the pan, but the lieutenant pauses after unwrapping it. It is round, with perfectly marbled fat all the way through it.
"Harry... even on sale, this must have cost a week's wages," he remarks in awe.
That was kind of the point.

A rich, fancy meal for you to share, before everything will be made from rye and water.
The detective clears his throat, sheepishly. "It's fine," he insists.
"Besides... I passed by the beer case and it was- it's just better, to spend my money on this," he adds with a mumble. After watching Marcel break down today, the urge to drink had been nearly unbearable.
He looks at the pan very intently, not wanting to see his reaction to that.He can hear the steak being set back down on the counter behind him, before slender arms close around his middle. His boyfriend lays his head against his back and he holds him. "You did a good job."Harry sets one hand over Kim's, where it rests on his rounded beer belly. He loves to hear him say that, but it never really gets easier to share his moments of weakness. "Thanks, baby," he says softly.The lieutenant places a kiss to the back of his neck before he pulls away. "Do you need any more help with dinner?"He could have him cut the vegetables, but instead he detective looks over and just smiles. "I'll take care of it," he promises. "It'll help take my mind off everything." He likes to do the cooking, in part because of that. There's something kind of meditative about it, and he loves to see the happy reactions to the food he makes.
At least you can do something to make people happy.
Kim keeps him company for a while he fries and seasons the steak, and prepares the vegetables they will eat with it. When dinner is almost ready, he steps outside to smoke his daily cigarette.Harry feels a tug of disappointment that he's too busy cooking to join him.
For the most part, the lieutenant tries to not smoke around him anymore. He doesn't want to tempt him, or expose him to secondhand smoke, but the detective misses the cigarettes they used to share. Sometimes he still goes out there with a cup of tea, to stand next to him and admire the stars.He tries not to dwell on it too much, but his mind lingers on the memory of their first kiss. The way he shared his breath with the man, and the chestnut smoke that hung in the air around them... The meat sears quickly, and Harry is almost ready to plate up dinner when he is suddenly plunged into darkness. The dull hum of electricity in the wall dies, leaving silence in its wake.
It takes a moment for his eyes to adjust to the low light, but even when the vague shapes of his kitchen materialize in front of him, it's still very hard to see anything at all. There is very little light coming in from the window in the living room.
It must be the entire block. Maybe the whole district.
With no power going to the stove, there's no risk of his steaks really burning, and so Harry goes find a light source. Three steps into the living room, he rams his leg into something, sending a sharp pain shooting up his shin.
This is so painful, it must be the worst injury you've ever had. They're definitely going to have to amputate.
He lets out an indistinct cry as he collapses to the floor, and hugs his knee against his chest. Touching the tender area doesn't make it hurt any less.
The detective lays on his floor for several minutes. He can hear the neighbors below him speaking. They sound agitated, but Harry can't quite make out the words.
Trying to figure out the extent of the power outage.
In the back of his mind, he notices that Kim hasn't come in from smoking yet. He hopes he's not stranded outside, with the electronic lock of the lobby door now powered down.
Go the window.
 When he is able to move again, he hauls himself up to his feet, unsteady. His leg no longer needs an amputation, but he's sure he will have a nasty bruise.
Harry limps over to his living room window as carefully as he can. He can't see any lit street lamps- only the soft glow of light pollution on the skyline. Seeing anyone down on the ground is impossible.The detective turns toward the bathroom, mindful of his coffee table this time, in order to retrieve the only candle he owns. It is sitting on the back of the toilet tank, with a lighter next to it.
He purchased it in a gift shop near the harbor, the last time he was in Kim's neighborhood. It advertised itself as "Fresh Breeze" scented, but definitely smells more like the cheap cologne that he used to use to cover the smell of alcohol.
Overpowering.

But comforting. In the same way that all your worst habits are comforting.

At least the candle won't shorten your life.
He gets the wick lit just in time to hear his front door open."Harry?" His boyfriend's voice drifts in from the front of the flat.
You should really get more candles.
"I'm in here," he comes out of the bathroom, holding his hand up to shield the tiny flame as he walks. "Is it the whole block?""It's more than that," the lieutenant says. He is carrying his flashlight, the one he keeps in the toolbox of the Kineema. "I radioed the precinct. There are outages all over Revachol West."Harry sets his candle in the center of the table. "Well... at least we get a romantic, candle-lit dinner out of it," he remarks with a light tone."I suppose so," Kim agrees. "Still... I wonder what caused it," he muses."Yeah," Harry nods as he sits down. "Me too. Seems unusual that it would hit multiple parts of the district."
A single city block might imply one substation. You don't know what an outage like this implies.
"I'm sure they will have it restored soon, though," he adds. He has little idea what goes into getting power up and running, but he feels that it must be a top priority for the electric company.
"Bring that torch over here," he motions for Kim to illuminate the kitchen. It's just enough light for him to finish plating up the steak and vegetables, and bring them over to the table. Kim wedges the flashlight into the shade of Harry's floor lamp, creating a nicer atmosphere than the harsh light shining right on a wall would have. "It's just strange," he says.The detective sits down at the table, waiting to start eating until his partner joins him. He shrugs with one shoulder. "It could have been anything," he says. "I don't know that much about electricity."The lieutenant sits across from him, his mind distracted by the blackout. He reaches toward his breast pocket for his notebook unconsciously- only to realize he's not wearing his jacket. His eyes wander toward the hooks by the door.
No. None of that.
Harry leans way over in his seat, obviously and purposefully blocking Kim's line of sight. "At least we're getting a nice evening out of it," he says again, meeting his eyes with a little smile. Under the table he moves his foot over, pressing their ankles together.The tips of the lieutenant's ears go slightly pink, barely visible in the low light. "We are," he agrees, taking the hint. He turns his attention to his food. For a few minutes, neither of them say much, simply enjoying the fancy steak. Harry thinks it could have turned out better, but he doesn't say anything about it. He looks to Kim, trying to gauge his reaction.The man's eyes are closed in content, and he is enjoying his food slowly.
Harry likes to cook for him whenever he can, but, it's hard for RCM officers to really get to sit down and eat unless they have a spouse at home. It makes nights like this all the more special."You're staring, Harrier," Kim remarks. He has barely looked up from his plate, but it's not like Harry was trying to be subtle."I can't help it," he says with a little grin. "You're nice to look at.""I think you might need your eyesight checked," the lieutenant clicks his tongue. "I am nothing exceptional in that area."
Seolite features are often considered unattractive. Revachol's standards of beauty are very white-centric.
"You are to me," he says. "Besides, it's not like I'm much of a looker either."
You were pretty handsome, back in the day.

Face it, tubby. All that is a long ways behind you. The party life did its damage.

Nonsense! You are the pinnacle of male perfection.
He decides that he doesn't care what he looks like, as long as Kim doesn't care either. "There are more important things than looks," his partner says.He feels the prickle of insecurity, wishing that the man would insist that he finds him attractive.
He is honest with you. That's worth more than honeyed words.

But you want him to desire you.
 Harry focuses harder on Kim, trying to chase away the incessant chatter of his own mind. "Is that so?" he asks. "So what did it? How on earth did I sweep the handsome Lieutenant Kitsuragi off his feet?"He is rewarded with with sight of his boyfriend's ears going pink again.
"It may not sound romantic, but, honestly? I admire your strength," he says, picking at the last of the food on his plate.Something about his words touches him deeply. He feels so fragile much of the time, like he constantly needs Kim's help or he will just fall apart.
"Oh yes," he says, putting up a front of false confidence. "I do remember you commenting on my 'bicep girth' back in Martinaise," he flexes one arm, puffing up a little.Kim lets out a tiny little snort. It's hardly a dramatic laugh, but it is a hundred times more than anything he shows on duty.
"Well, yes," he admits, his voice taking on a slightly playful lilt. "But that's not what I meant. I have watched you go through more than one person should ever have to, and no matter what life throws at you, you get back on your feet and try again. That's what I admire."
Marry him.
"Kim..." it's his turn to blush a little bit. Nothing about his struggle is inspirational. Every mess in his life is his own damn fault, and to hear his partner talk about him like this is kind of humbling."I mean it." The lieutenant says firmly. He often wavers when trying to discuss feelings, but he's been getting better at it.
The man's hand rests on his own, small in comparison.Harry leans over the table and sets his hand on Kim's cheek, kissing him. The edge of the table cuts into his stomach as he does, but he endures it.
"I love you," he says with a dopey smile on his face. There's a long beat of silence as Kim looks into his eyes, but can't quite get the words out in response.
It's ok. You already know he feels the same way.

He doesn't need to say it every time.
"I want to make up for last night." Kim says after a few moments, trying to move the conversation along."Last night?""You wanted some affection, and I wasn't really in a place to give you that," he says with some regret. He gives his hand a gentle squeeze."Aw, don't worry about it baby. I didn't mind." Harry goes back to finishing his own food."Even still. I want to do something for you tonight. So, that being the case... do you have anything in particular you want?" Kim asks him.
Oh yes you do.
 
The ropes pull a little bit on the skin near his wrists, but not enough to be uncomfortable. He pulls against them, not really seeking freedom, but just the reminder that he is trapped.

His partner stands over him, teasing him with his gentle touch. When Harry begs for more, his request is ignored. He is there at his lover's whim, not the other way around.
 The fantasy is so vivid that he holds his breath for a few seconds. "Oh um, yeah, maybe? I mean, if you want it too.""Well, there's a reason I'm asking," Kim coaxes him.
There is very little that he wouldn't be willing to do for you.
"Have you ever thought about tying me up?" He asks with curiosity. He enjoys it when his boyfriend bosses him around in bed a little bit. Some bondage seems like a natural extension of that.Kim sucks in a small breath through his teeth, but Harry can tell the difference between interest and apprehension.
"It's not something I've done before," he admits."If you don’t want to, that’s fine. I just think it would be a lot of fun," he says. "Besides, you've got the, you know..." he wiggles his fingers at him playfully from across the table."I don't know what that means," the lieutenant says, "but I am willing to try it. Actually it fits well with what I already had in mind."
Oh, does it now?
He feels a rush of excitement. “Yeah? And what is that?”"You'll find out," Kim says with the ghost of a smirk passing over his lips. He gets to his feet. "First, I should clear up these dishes. Why don't you go and get things ready for us?" He suggests. "I'll join you in a few minutes.""Okay. Don't keep me waiting, though," he gets to his feet and retrieves the candle from the table, to light his way. His bedroom is just as dark as the rest of the flat. It's a moonless night, so the only light that comes in from the window is from the stars, and the soft glow of distant city lights.
He sets the candle on the nightstand, and opens the drawer where he keeps some handy things. There's lube, small towels, and some condoms- though they don't use those very often anymore.
What is he going to tie you up with?
He remembers vividly the time Kim shoved a handkerchief in his mouth to gag him, and the many times that he has held down his wrists, but those were all spontaneous. They were the suggestion of bondage, rather than the real thing.
You got all excited by this idea, and forgot about the logistics.
He knows there is rope, and some duct tape, both in the toolbox in the Kineema downstairs.
That rope is too rough to use on bare skin.

Duct tape will be too hard to get out of quickly, if there's an emergency.
With those exhausted, he can only think of one other possibility. Harry finds the old gym bag he carries to work in the corner of his room, and begins to rummage through it, looking for his RCM issued handcuffs.
Do not use an instrument of the law for a cheap thrill.

Why not? You could be a Naughty Cop.
Affront to the law or not, it's the only option. He finds them lost in the bottom of the bag, and sets them on the nightstand next to their other supplies. He lays down a towel to keep the bedspread clean, and then sits down. He's not entirely sure what to do with himself while he waits. Luckily for him, he doesn't have to wait long. He can hear Kim's light footsteps as the man makes his way down the hall. The beam from his torch reaches the room a moment before he does."Are you going to tell me what you have planned, now?" Harry can't help but ask the moment his lover steps into the room.Kim smirks a little bit. "Aren't you eager?" He teases him gently as he turns off the flashlight and sets it down. It leaves them only illuminated by the candle, and what pitiful light comes in through the window. "I thought we could teach you how to cum."
Teach you to what?
He says it with such an even tone and straight face, that the detective is sure he took the opportunity to psych himself up before stepping into the room. Harry begins to loosen his tie immediately, his heart beating a little harder in anticipation as Kim joins him on the bed.
“That sounds real disco, baby, but uh... I'm pretty sure that's not something I need to be taught.""Isn't it, though?" His tone is playful, but the words weren't what he expected. The lieutenant reaches out to help him with his tie. "What I have in mind isn't quite the, ahem- conventional method," he explains.
There's a natural pause as he sets the colorful tie aside, and then starts to unbutton the detective's shirt for him too.
"We both know you get frustrated sometimes," his lover goes on, tactfully. "It's nothing to be ashamed of, but, there are ways to teach yourself to climax even if you cannot achieve, um..." he kind of trails off, losing confidence to say the next word.
Erection.
"Oh," he looks away from him.
This is humiliating.

He doesn't want you to be embarrassed.
He knows Kim is not trying to hurt his feelings. On the contrary, his boyfriend is being sweet and gentle, trying to explore a way to give him more pleasure.
He loves the man as intensely as he feels the sting of shame.Harry tries to be at peace with the problem, he really does, but the fact is that his struggle chips away at his pride more than he wants to admit. Usually he needs chemical help to perform, and they often forgo it out of concern for his heart.
Kim has always been supportive, but no matter how many times his lover promises him that it's not a big deal, he knows that isn't the whole truth.
The sight of your lover when he cums is one of the best things in life you're still allowed to have.

You would be disappointed, if your positions were reversed. No matter what you said to him about it.
 His lukewarm response makes Kim pause after helping him out of his shirt. "Do you not want to try? We don't have to," he says."I want to," Harry says with conviction. No matter how much it's supposed to be for his own pleasure, though, he finds himself not wanting to let his lover down.
"I just don't know if I even can," he adds, "but, what the hell?" He shrugs, trying to act casual about it. "If you want to try, I won't stop you, baby."
Your act isn't fooling him.

Any man would feel this way.
The lieutenant leans in and kisses his lips, rubbing his cheek with his thumb.
"Whatever happens, I don't consider an evening spent spoiling you to be time wasted," he says.He feels a bit sheepish at those words, but touched too. He couldn't ask for a better boyfriend. Kim pulls back from the kiss, and reaches over to where Harry has set out the things they need. His face is inscrutable as he picks up the handcuffs, before raising a brow in the other man's direction.“Don’t read into it,” the detective says, putting his hands up defensively. “That’s just the only thing I could find that seems like it will work."The lieutenant holds his gaze for a long moment, judging this answer, before he decides to let it go.
“Well,” he says, "I don't want to lock your wrists behind your back. We're going to be here for awhile." He locks one of the cuffs around the bedpost, letting it dangle for now. "So I think we will need a second pair... and a safe-word, too. What will you say if you want me to stop and unlock you?"
There's not a reason in this world you would want him to stop.

Use 'Disco.'

No, you say that when things are good.

Fire?

You should probably save that for actual fires.
“Um…” his mind churns, but comes up blank.“I am not doing this without one,” Kim says seriously. His gaze does not waver.“Yeah, no, that makes sense," Harry says, fidgeting. "I just didn't think about this part. Er... How about ‘apricot’?"
That sounds stupid.
“That will do fine," Kim nods.
He grabs one of his wrists, locking it into the cuff on the bedpost in a single, smooth motion. "I'll go get mine," he says, giving him another kiss as he gets up.
He had to have been lying when he said he's never done this. He's so cool about it.

He has used handcuffs many times for his job.

He knows how to play his part, that's all.
 The detective is left to finish undressing as best he can, with only one hand free. He has just managed to wiggle out of his pants in an undignified way when his lover returns."Are you ready?" Kim asks. He has his own pair of cuffs in hand now. He locks them around a decorative curve of the headboard, somewhere close to the middle of the bed.Harry nods eagerly, and lays back against the pillows. He offers his wrist to him, before the lieutenant is even ready for it. "Mmhm."
He allows Kim to lock him into the second cuff, and then pulls on the restraints a little bit, to test them. They are very firm and sturdy, and the realization of how much he is left to the lieutenant’s mercy makes his cock twitch a little in anticipation.“Are you comfortable?” the other man shifts some of the pillows around behind him, making sure he's well supported. He checks his watch, making note of the time so that they don't leave him chained up too long."Yeah," Harry assures him, "This is great."
More than great.
"Good. Tell me when you need to move." He leans in and kisses his lips softly. He is still fully dressed, and the fabric of his clothes brushes over Harry's bare skin as he touches him. They start off slow, with his lover stroking his chest, and trailing kisses over his face and neck. When Harry inevitably tilts his head, silently begging for a hickey, Kim actually obliges. He puts it low, near his collar bone.
Always aware of where they can be hidden.
Harry pulls against the handcuffs a little bit, rewarding him with a moan. He loves seeing love marks the day after, but his boyfriend is usually conservative with them.Kim pinches his nipples, making him squirm underneath him, before he slowly continues down his body. He takes more time with him than he has in ages, exploring his skin like they are new to each other. His fingers seek out not only the obvious erogenous zones, but all the other sensitive spots that make him sigh and gasp.
His hands slide down his thighs, avoiding touching his cock completely, but exploring every other inch of him.By the time the lieutenant is forcing his legs apart, Harry’s cock is as full as it ever gets- half hard and not able to hold up its own weight, but undeniably aroused.
The man settles between his knees, and then grabs the lube off the nightstand. He spreads a generous amount over his hole, before pressing one finger inside.Harry closes his eyes, focused on relaxing. They do this often enough that one finger is no problem for him, but he always tries to be ready for the ones that follow.A second finger comes soon after the first. Kim's free hand rests right next to his dick, avoiding touching him. "You always make this easy," the lieutenant's voice carries a certain admiration.
Relaxation doesn't come as easily to him.
He snorts a little, half amused. "And I always tell you, I'm not doing anything," he says. "You're doing all the work tonight, babe." He looks up at him through half opened eyes, admiring the sight of his lover.He's ready for a third digit, but Kim draws it out, taking a lot more time to stretch him than he needs to. He fucks him lazily on his fingers, pressing against his prostate to pull satisfied noises from his throat.
"If you cum tonight, it's going to be from this," he says it almost like an order as he massages that spot inside him.Harry nods eagerly in agreement, and clenches around his fingers, wanting more girth. He furrows his brow in concentration, focusing hard on the sensations his lover his bringing him."Don't think about it too hard," The lieutenant advises.
If you're too focused on it, you'll get stage fright.
"I'm ready for a more," the detective tells him, shifting in his restraints. His fingers twitch with the desire to touch the other man, or at the very least to touch himself."And you will get it," Kim promises, seemingly in no hurry. He relentlessly pumps his fingers into him, trying to pull sounds from Harry's lips like a musician plays an instrument. It feels like forever before he adds his third finger, but when he does, he barely slows down his pace at all.
Harry lets out an appreciative moan and spreads his legs a little wider, rocking his hips. He is desperate for a little friction on his cock, but his boyfriend is still stubbornly ignoring that part of his body.The sensation is building, but, eventually it plateaus. He knows he won't get there without a little more help.
"Baby," he begs him breathlessly. "It feels good but I'm not going to-" he gasps at the feeling of the man's fingers stretching him a little more, losing the thread of his sentence. "I need more. Please. Just enough to get me there."Finally, he feels the lieutenant's slender hand wrap around his cock. He matches the speed with which he's drilling his fingers into him, and it makes Harry twist and moan louder. This is what he needed, and all at once he feels his orgasm approaching like an oncoming train.The lieutenant licks his lips a tiny bit, and his pupils get slightly wider as he takes in the sight of Harry below him, building to his climax. His hand moves faster, pulling him right up to that edge and then-
Suddenly the touch on his cock is gone all together. Instead, his boyfriend's attentions have turned entirely to his prostate, trying to wring an orgasm from him that way.Harry clenches around his fingers as he desperately chases his pleasure, but it slips away from him. He lets out a sound that is something between a moan and a grunt of frustration. “Fuck,” he huffs, his chest heaving.Kim runs his clean hand up the length of Harry's body. "Don’t worry, mon cher, we will try again," he pants.
Listen to how ragged his breath is.

Fuck that's hot. He enjoyed watching you.
"You could have warned me," Harry gasps with no real malice. His voice is breathless, half laughing."Hm. Consider that your warning then," the lieutenant says with a devious little smirk. "It won't be the last time tonight."
He pulls away from him, letting the detective catch his breath for a moment while he takes off his shirt, and reapplies some lubricant. That's the only rest that Harry is granted, though. Before he knows it, two fingers are pressed back inside of him. He may not have had a real climax, but his body is noticeably more sensitive now. The pressure on his prostate feels more intense.
He sucks in a desperate breath, flexing against the handcuffs. He is helpless against the lieutenant's whim, and loving every moment of it. He leans up as much as he can, seeking out a kiss.His partner gives him that affection readily, biting his lower lip. He presses his third finger back into him, working him open for something larger.
“Tell me when you’re ready,” he whispers against his lips.
You're more than ready.

You need to be fucked right now, before you die of deficiency in "vitamin D."
"I'm ready," Harry says right away, spreading his legs a little wider. He uses his leg to press against his lover's erection through the fabric of his trousers, trying to entice him. "I need you."Instead of pulling his pants off and giving him the dicking he's begging for, Kim presses his pinky and thumb into him alongside his other fingers. The girth quickly meets, and then exceeds, the width of his cock.The detective lets out a strangled moan of surprise.His lover looks up from his task to search his face for any sign of discomfort. He pauses, "Too much?"Mouth still hanging slightly open, Harry shakes his head. "N-no," he moans, "it feels good.""Tell me if it starts to hurt, even a little bit," he orders him, adding a little more lube to help work him open.He nods in agreement, lost in a sensation he hasn't felt this intensely since they first slept together: that of being slowly stretched to a seemingly impossible girth. The handcuffs stop him from being able to cling to his lover, even though he desperately wants to.
When more of the man's hand sinks into him, the detective feels like he's coming apart at the seams. In a good way. "At this rate, you'll take my whole hand tonight," Kim's tone is observational, as if he were doing something much more innocent then dismantling his partner's ass.The very image makes him moan louder, the sound ringing off the walls around them. He finds his boyfriend's clean hand suddenly clapped over his mouth."Shhh," he doesn't pause for even a moment in the slow, rhythmic pumping of his fingers. Each thrust sinks slightly more into him. "We're going to get complaints from your neighbors," his ears are so pink that Harry can plainly see their color, even in the low light.Harry lets his head fall back, and when the lieutenant's hand leaves his mouth, he bites own lip to try to keep his voice down.
His pleasure is building more slowly this time, but it also feels more intense, especially with his body being more sensitive. His hips roll a little bit in time with Kim's movements, acting on their own."That's it," his lover coaxes him, pressing deeper into him. It feels like he must be taking the man's entire hand by now.
"You're doing so good, Harrier." His voice is dripping with obvious lust.He opens his eyes again and looks between them. His own cock is leaking precum into the hair on his stomach, and beyond that he can see his lover's hand sunk down to his second knuckles.
He lets out a sound of disbelief. "I thought I'd taken a lot more than that," he gasps. It doesn't feel possible to fit anything larger.Kim reaches up and strokes his receding hair. "It always feels bigger than it is," he remarks, "but you can handle more. You'll take whatever I give you, won't you?"Harry moans in desperate agreement, and tries to shift his hips down for more. Instead, he feels the lieutenant pull back a little bit, denying him that girth."Not like that," he says sternly. "You're going to hurt yourself. You have to be patient." He wraps his hand around his cock a second time, distracting him with those sensations. Once again, he moves quickly, overwhelming him.Harry arches his hips and yells. It all feels so much more intense this time. He can feel Kim’s eyes on him, too, watching for when he gets close to his peak so he can pull away at the right moment.
He understands why the man feels the need to hide his face sometimes, when they are together. With his hands tied up like this, arms splayed out, he feels very much on display for him.
The stage is your natural place.
"Kim," he cries, but he can't form a real sentence of any kind. Whatever he was going to say is lost as his partner twists his hand around him in just the right way.
His cock throbs under his touch. His breath gets short, his eyes flutter closed, his toes scrunch up.
This time, when his lover pulls his hand away, he is ready for it. Harry flexes in the handcuffs, draws his knees up around Kim's sides, and tenses all his muscles, trying to pull himself over the edge. His partner's fingers keep tormenting his prostate, too.In spite of their best efforts, though, he doesn't quite get there.
The detective lets out a groan of exhaustion and sags in the handcuffs a little bit as his second climax slips away. Kim wipes his hands clean once more, and then grabs a fresh cloth to mop the sweat from his partner's brow. There's a tenderness in his touch that Harry soaks up.
"How are you feeling?" he asks him."I think... I need to catch my breath after that one," he admits.
"Maybe you get a turn, now?" He lets his eyes slide down to the bulge in his boyfriend's parachute pants, and then he presses his leg against it again, trying to pull a reaction from him.Kim reaches down and adjusts himself inside his trousers. He has a good poker face, but he can't hide the truth from Harry of all people.
“Do you need your hands free?”
You will soon.
"Probably soon," he admits, "but you can fuck me first," he promises him. The idea of being chained up for his lover's pleasure has him trembling with want."You said you needed a break. Won't that be too much?" The lieutenant strokes his muttonchops affectionately as they talk, hesitant to do anything that might hurt him.
He wants to, but he doesn't want to push you past your limits.
"I can handle it," he insists. "I'm a little sensitive, but, I want you to. Please? Before you have to uncuff me?" "Okay," he kisses his lips. "But tell me if you need to stop.""I will," he promises, watching the lieutenant pull away.
Watching the detective has clearly affected him more than he's been letting on, because as he sheds his trousers, it becomes clear just how hard he is. There's even a slight damp spot on in the inside of his underwear.
Harry stirs in his handcuffs. He wants to grab him, to kiss every inch of his skin, to suck his perfect cock and feel his lover pull on his hair. All of those fantasies are enough to make him groan quietly, but before he can do any of those things, he has to lay here and be patient while Kim fucks him for as long as he likes.
Like you're a toy for him to use.

He doesn't objectify you that way.

Lighten up. A little objectification can be fun, if it's on your terms.
The lieutenant kneels between his legs on the bed, stroking himself to the sight of Harry spread-eagle. He wipes the extra lube off of his hand over the detective's waiting hole.When those narrow fingers touch his opening without pushing inside, he can feel how gaped he is. He licks his lips unconsciously, holding his breath until his lover finally slides into him.
His body is sensitive and overworked, and just this much feels a lot more intense than he expected it to. He is starting to shake from the intensity of the evening.Kim rests his forehead against Harry's shoulder, already breathing hard as he starts to thrust into him. He drops kisses on his shoulder and then presses their cheeks together, holding him close.Harry moans, his desperate cock trapped between their bodies. He resists the urge to try to angle his hips to get more friction, and instead focuses on the feeling of his boyfriend inside of him.
With his body so over-sensitive, it doesn't take long before he feels a third climax building. He clenches his hands into fists, and locks his ankles around Kim's hips, so he can barely pull out enough to thrust.That gets a reaction from the lieutenant, who moans into his ear and starts to move faster.
Kim clings to him tightly, and the feeling of being wrapped up in such a tight embrace makes him feel so safe. He's helpless, chained up like this, but he feels secure with him. Loved. His lungs glow in his chest, and he wants so badly to hug his partner back."I'm getting there, baby," he gasps out. "I think maybe this time..."He feels his lover's hand slide into his hair and pull a bit, forcing his head back. Kim sucks on a spot on throat, not even paying attention to how high up on his neck it is. He's just delighting in pulling Harry along with him toward orgasm."I'm going to cum inside you," the lieutenant's voice sounds surprisingly rough in his ear. "That's what you want, isn't it?" The question is rhetorical- Harry has made it clear many times that it's one of his favorite things.He moans and nods desperately, pulling him in with with legs with each thrust. "Yes," he gasps out. "Do it, please. I need it." He feels so close, the incidental friction on his cock helping him along.Finally, the rhythm of his partner's thrusts falters, and he lets out a cry that is muffled by one of the pillows behind them as he reaches his peak.He feels the warmth of his boyfriend's cum, injected deep inside him, and he cries out as well, clenching his muscles around him. He's so close, he needs just a little bit bit more...
"Don't stop baby," he begs him. "I'm almost there."The lieutenant only pauses long enough to take a few labored breaths, before he pushes himself up enough to keep thrusting, churning up his own cum inside of him. He pets his chest and runs his fingers over the sensitive areas of skin on his neck and sides.Finally, Harry spills over that edge. It's different from ones he's had in the past, but it is unmistakably an orgasm. His mostly limp cock weakly sprays across both of them, and he pulls on his handcuffs as every muscle in his body seems to tense up. As the moment passes, he realizes he was moaning so loudly that he feels a little hoarse.
Kim wasn't kidding about getting a complaint from the neighbors.
As soon as he has relaxed enough that his lover can pull away, the man unlocks the handcuffs.He wanted to embrace him the moment he could, but instead, Harry just lays there. His limbs feel like jelly, and he can hardly move.
"Bloody hell," he gasps out. "I won't be able to walk for a week."Kim chuckles a little bit, and then gets to his feet to stretch, and start cleaning up. "A job well done, then," he says smugly. He uses the corner of a towel to wipe the cum off of both of them, and then tosses the dirty laundry into the hamper.Harry can't quite will himself to get up, even though he knows they both badly need a shower after that. "That was incredible. Thanks, baby," he rumbles.The lieutenant leans over and kisses him. "Come on, mon cher," he encourages him. "We should get ready for bed."It's the sound of the pet name on his boyfriend's lips that gives him the strength to rise.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

He is standing outside the city entry checkpoint on the 8-81, in a small crowd of civilians. The people around him are pale, panicked, crying. They are mobbing up against the barricade, demanding to be let through. A group of armed INSURCOM soldiers stand between them and access to Revachol proper.

The guards are pointing their rifles at them, yelling at them to stay back. An innocent bystander tries to push past, saying something about his family, and that's all it takes for them to gun him down.

It's an execution.

Kim is standing too close to the scene. Blood and brain splatters over him as the man's head splits open, staining his white clothes. It feels warm on his skin.
From somewhere to this left, Harry lets out an angry scream. He rushes at the soldier who fired on the stranger like he is going to try to take him down with his body mass alone. Kim sees almost as if in slow motion as the rifle is aimed at his lover. Harry doesn't even seem to care, yelling that the soldier is a murderer. The lieutenant tries to stop him before it's too late, but his limbs feel heavy, like he is trying to run through chest-deep water.

There's a flash from the muzzle of the gun; the sound of the shot. Harry's blood splatters over him and mixes with the blood of the stranger he tried to avenge, dripping down Kim's chest.
 He lets out a yelp, sitting upright suddenly. Blood is running down his face and back. He reaches through the darkness for his Keijl, and his hand finds it on the nightstand, where he always keeps it.Next to him, Harry sits up nearly as quickly as he just did. "Kim?"
I woke him up again.
The lieutenant doesn't answer, panting hard. He's holding his gun upright and ready, with one finger resting alongside the trigger. He can barely hear the man next to him, feeling like he's still half caught in his dream.“Woah there," the detective says with concern when his eyes fall onto the weapon. He reaches out and grasps the gun by the barrel, careful to stay away from the muzzle.
"It was just a dream, love,” he tries to assure him, tugging on the pistol gently, to get it away from him.Kim lets him take it. It won’t protect him from his nightmares anyway. It's not even loaded, not since Harry put his foot down about that.
He hugs his knees, trying to slow his breathing. Trying to not let it be so obvious that he's crying. Trying to get his shit together. He's slowly realizing the the blood drenching him is just his own sweat, but the vivid and gory details of his nightmare rhymes too well with real memories.Harry wraps his arms around him and pulls him against his broad chest. That small assurance that he's real and he's alive is all it takes to break the flimsy wall holding everything back. Kim clings to him tightly, almost afraid he will evaporate if he doesn't have a strong enough grip on him. A sob rips its way from his throat, and his whole body shakes with it.“Shhh, everything is okay, baby,” the man says, stroking his hair. “We’re at my place, in my bed," he reminds him.Tears leak from his eyes on their own; Kim is powerless to stop them in this half asleep state. He keeps his face pressed against Harry's warm chest as a feeling of humiliation creeping over him. He doesn’t want to be crying. He doesn't want to let anyone see him like this, not even his boyfriend.
But it felt so real.
 The detective starts to speak quietly into his ear. "Stillness is the absence of movement / Darkness is the absence of light / Silence is the absence of sound / The Pale is the absence of Elysium-""We are the absence of the Pale," Kim finishes. This particular stanza of the Volta do Mar is the one he uses most often when he wakes up at night, to ground himself.
They whisper it together, over and over, until his voice gets steady enough to recite it on his own. The rhythm of the words helps to regulate his breathing and his heartrate.
For all that Harry insists he’s a bad sleeper, I'm the one who usually wakes us up.
As he chants, his tears mostly subside. He’s able to start relaxing in the other man's arms, his crushing grip getting looser. When he finally pulls away, Kim sniffles, and wipes his nose on the back of his hand.Harry retrieves a handkerchief from the bedside table, and passes it over to him. “That was a bad one,” he observes gently.
Its true. I haven’t had a nightmare quite that intense for a while.

They will only get worse.
He just nods, not sure what else to say about it. He takes the little square of fabric and wipes his face, blowing his nose. He tosses it into the darkness, in the general direction of the hamper."Feeling better?" Harry asks, reaching out to stroke his temple affectionately.He nods. He's no longer in the throes of his panic attack, but he doesn't feel good either."Good. Come on, lets try to get some sleep, okay?"
His boyfriend settles in at his side, wrapping himself snug around him.He feels more stable, held tight in Harry's embrace like this. It reassures him that they are both safe. He worries more for the detective's well being than his own, but feeling that warm body behind him reminds him that the man is there. Even after several minutes, though, sleep isn't coming back to him. It doesn't sound like Harry is having any better luck either, based on the cadence of his breath.
He rolls over in his arms, so that they are left nose to nose.
He has morning breath.
“I didn’t mean to wake you,” Kim whispers apologetically. Between the darkness and his bad vision, he can barely make out the features of the man's face.“I don’t mind,” the detective answers without opening his eyes.“You struggle to get enough sleep as it is," he protests, setting his hand on his lover's cheek. "You don’t need my problems keeping you up too."“Shhh,” Harry sets one finger against the lieutenant's lips. “I’d rather wake up, and be here to help you.”
He knows that I wouldn’t talk to him about it, otherwise.

I don't bother to, if it happens when we are apart.
 Kim closes his eyes again, trying to focus on the pleasant weight of his lover in the bed beside him. He's just drifting back off to sleep when the phone on Harry's nightstand rings, cutting through the serenity.
He jumps in his arms, his heart suddenly pounding all over again.The detective groans dramatically, and rolls over onto his back, picking up the receiver with one hand.
"Du Bois," he announces himself.The lieutenant remains laying there, the momentary panic fading now. He scrunches his eyes shut tight, as if he can will away the call."Yeah," Harry is saying on the phone, trying keep his voice quiet. "Yeah, he's here too." There's a murmuring voice on the other end of the line, but it's not loud enough to recognize.
"Right away. We'll be there in-" there's a little pause as he leans over him, almost squishing him with his weight as he grabs Kim's wrist watch off the nightstand on his side. "Maybe an hour? Kim'll need some coffee in him before he can drive. And then there's the roadblock."The lieutenant lets out a heavy sigh and sits up. He takes his watch from his boyfriend.

04:03.

He straps that to his wrist, and then turns on the lamp on his nightstand, so he can search for his clothes."Wait," Harry says next to him.The lieutenant pauses and looks over, thinking for a moment he might be speaking to him."What about the curfew? It won't lift until six," he's still on the phone. "There's at least two checkpoints between-" he gets cut off by the murmuring of the phone."They should have an exception for vital service work," Kim says as he pulls his trousers on.
The disappointment he feels about not being able to fall back asleep is monumental. Calls in the middle of the night come with being an RCM officer, but he isn't exactly rested."Right then. We'll go check it out," Harry says goodbye and hangs up, before he gets up to dress too."Brief?" Kim asks, sitting back down on the bed to lace up his boots."Body was discovered at the western power plant, out by the Pox," the detective tells him. "It sounds like the guy got kind of..."
Please do not finish that sentence...
"...diced."
That’s what I didn't want to hear.
"Lovely," Kim says dryly. "Lets hope the soldiers at the checkpoints have some sense," he adds. They arrive to the power plant a little less than an hour later. They are the only RCM on the scene, but that's not a surprise. They only get backup if there's a public scene that needs to be quickly cleared away.
The sun is only just coming up as the two of them approach the main doors of the enormous building. It is situated on a hill overlooking the ruins and wetland fields of The Pox. It's the largest power plant in all of Revachol.
Look, in the distance.
His eyes fall onto a collection of buildings below, in the nearby ruins. Fences and barricades have been erected on the road leading to it. INSURCOM vehicles and flags are everywhere.
A base of operations, maybe?

Way out here? We're far away from everything.
He doesn't dwell on it as they step inside. The lobby for the building is much smaller than Kim would have expected for the size of the facility. It reminds him a little bit of the cramped office the dock in Martinaise worked out of.
To the left is the punch-clock, along with a whole wall full of little paper envelopes containing employee timecards. Across from that is a desk to the right with four or five phones, and a radiocomputer.A tall woman in a tan jumpsuit is leaning against the desk. Her long, dark brown hair is pulled back into a sleek and professional looking bun, and she is wearing high heels, both of which seem out of place with her clothing. She would seem more at home in a business suit of some kind. She straightens up when they walk in. With her heels, she is almost as tall as Harry.
"Bonjour," she greets in a heavy Sur-la-Clef accent. She reaches out to offer her hand to shake. "You must be from the RCM." Her jumpsuit has the logo for Électricité Jamrock on the breast pocket."That's right," Kim says with a polite nod. He stretches himself up to his full height, unconsciously trying to match her own as he shakes her hand.
"I am Lieutenant Kitsuragi. This is my partner, Lieutenant Double-Yfreitor Harrier Du Bois."Her hand feels cold, even through his gloves, and her grip is impressively firm.
"Very glad to have you both here, officers," she says, "I'm Dr. Luipen, the plant manager here.""You're the one who called?" Harry asks.She shakes her head, "That would be Frank Harrington," she tells him. "He's one of our technicians."The moment his hand is free, Kim pulls his notebook out of his pocket and begins to write that down, letting his partner take over the interview."We'll want to speak with Frank," the detective says. "Where is he?""He's in the break room, recovering," Dr. Luipen reports. "He discovered the… body,” she says, as if she’s unsure that’s the appropriate word. “He was very shaken up over it. I will take you to him now, if you want.""I think we had better see the scene first," Kim shakes his head. The longer a crime scene sits, the more compromised it tends to become.
Don't get ahead of yourself, Kitsuragi. It may not be a crime at all. The only thing you know is that a man is dead.
"Can you tell us what you know?" Harry asks."Certainly," the woman says with a nod. She was prepared for this.
"About 90 minutes ago, one of our turbines went offline. Frank went to investigate, and found that another technician, Jeoseph Muñoz, had fallen into it. There's not much left of him."
She seems remarkably collected and calm.

Some people compartmentalize well.
"Dr. Luipen," Kim licks the tip of his pen, "How long have you managed this facility?"She taps her foot. "Around 6 months," she says. "Why do you ask?""We just like to get to know everyone," Harry supplies. He stuffs his hands in his pockets. "How about you show us to the turbine?" The woman nods and turns, leading them down the central hall. There are doors on each side lining it, presumably leading to various offices. They reach the end, where the passage forms a T-shape, and she takes a right. In this section of the plant, the doors are made from heavy metal, and spaced very far apart.
At the very end of the hall is a white door with a narrow little vertical window in it. A well lit room is on the other side, and Kim can see the shape of someone standing in there.They don't go that far down the hallway, however. The woman leads them just three doors down before she stops.
Finally, Kim notices some discomfort from her. She is holding her body kind of stiffly as she motions to the door. It's labelled Turbine Room C. The sound of heavy machines can be heard humming on the other side.
"This is it. I would rather not go back inside, if it's all the same to you," she says. "It's... not a pleasant sight.""We understand," Kim assures her. "Please wait for us here while we have a look around."She nods and leans against the wall next to the door. "Of course, officers. I will be right here." Harry opens the door, slowly. His body language is tense, and he is already making a slight grimacing face, braced for a horror show.
The door opens onto a wide metal walkway, positioned halfway up inside a massive room. The entire space is about half the size of an aerostatic hangar, and more than two stories tall. There is no immediate sign of blood or anything else out of place.The two officers step inside. To their right is a line of six massive vertical generators, each four meters across, and stretching from the basement floor far below them, all the way to the ceiling above. The spinning blades are exposed, and the noise from them deafening.
Kim sheds his jacket as soon as he steps inside, tying it around his waist. It's hot in here because of the steam used in the power generation process."It's the fourth turbine. The one powered off!" the plant manager yells over the sound of the generators.They make their way down the line. The smell hits around the third turbine down.
Kim barely reacts, except to crinkle his nose. He knew to expect it, given the description of the body, and his sense of smell is pretty dull as it is.He sees Harry produce the monogrammed handkerchief he stole from him in Martinaise, and use it to cover his nose as he leans over the railing to look.A fine pinkish-red mist covers the inside of the machine, with chunks of flesh and organs stuck to the blades. It's gory, certainly, but the sight is so abstracted that Kim finds it difficult to connect it to the thought of a dead man.His partner doesn't seem to have any such problem. He grips the railing hard with his free hand as he looks down at it, his expression slightly ill."Detective? Are you okay?" He has to raise his voice a bit over the sound."Yeah. Totally!" he doesn't look or sound convincing. "It's just a little worse than I was expecting.""It's hardly the worst thing we've seen this year," Kim takes off his glasses and wipes the lenses as he speaks."I don't know... I think this is worse than the jumper," his partner remarks.He doesn't agree, but arguing about it won't help. "Maybe, but you handled that fine. Just try not to think about it too much," he advises with a straight face. Harry nods. He visibly gags, but manages to keep it down, and steps back from the railing so that the two of them can keep looking around. "What do you think, Kim?" He asks."I think that we need to ask Dr. Luipen how the body was identified," he said, looking down at the goo again. "I'm not even certain that we can determine the sex.""Yeah," his partner agrees. "What about the scene?" He adds.Harry is far better at visualizing a crime scene than he is, and he likes to pace the scene and announce his observations. It works out well, because Kim makes his great revelations through meticulous review of his notes.
The lieutenant is comfortable with this routine, but when he looks at Harry over the top of his glasses, he can see his partner is looking at him. Expectantly.
He needs time to get a grip on himself after looking at the gore.
He sighs and tucks his notebook away, and then looks around the space again.
"I don't see any sign of a struggle," he notes right away. "There is blood splatter on the walkway here, and especially the railing," he points, "but if the deceased fell in when the turbine was running, that is to be expected."
He paces around, trying to take in all the little details.
I'm not as good at this as he is.

Practice makes perfect, they say. This is good for you, Kisturagi.
"This appears to be a reasonably safe workplace, for what it is," he adds, yelling over the sound of the generator. He stuffs his hands into his pockets unconsciously, the way his partner does when he's looking around. "The railing is waist-high. This walkway is plenty wide for multiple people to pass each other, or for transporting equipment, and it isn't slick." He drags the sole of his boot over the textured metal grating they are standing on.
The entire experience reminds him of being a junior officer being tested by his superiors, and he has to fight against the thought that his partner is setting him up to embarrass him, somehow.
Harry wouldn't do that. He's just looking for insight.

A change in routine keeps everyone sharp.
"I think that to have an accident here, he must have been badly intoxicated," he goes on. "That, or this was self inflicted," he says, straight forward about it. A little frown crosses the detective's face, and it bruises Kim's pride, just a tiny bit. He adjusts his spectacles. "Do you not agree?""It's just..." Harry looks over the railing again. "I can't picture myself jumping here."The hair on the back of his neck stands up. "Excuse me?" he asks.
Is he still thinking about suicide? I thought he was doing better.

It's not a continuous climb, you know that as well as anybody, Kisturagi. Relapse happens with mental health, too, not just addiction.
Harry gestures to the turbine to the left of theirs, which is still running. "I mean... look at it," he says. "That doesn't say 'instant lights out' to me," he goes on. "That says 'pain.' And to do it at his workplace? Usually the point of killing yourself is to stop being a horrible burden on everyone around you." 
The detective's blood soaks into his clothes as Kim stitches him up. His grip is sure, his movements quick, and his hands are steady, but none of that is enough to keep him from feeling pain. The man whimpers in his delirium, and tries to pull away from him.

His pulse is erratic, too. The lieutenant is terrified that he's losing him to blood loss. No one from their stations has answered his desperate plea for medical assistance. There's a chance that one or both of them are sending someone, but without an answer, he has to assume that no help is coming.
 
Do I make him feel like a burden?
"I mean, it could have been impulsive," Harry goes on thoughtfully. "That's a factor too. Every time I attempted, I think it was impulsive? But I don't really remember."Kim feels nauseated, but he manages to keep it from showing on his face.
He thinks."Or it could be a malicious thing. If he felt betrayed or abandoned by everyone, or he was being bullied, then offing himself at work in some horrible way and making them clean it up could be his revenge," the man muses.The lieutenant balls his hand up into a fist and squeezes it hard, trying to distract himself. At least the sound of the generators half drowns out his partner's words.
We're just discussing work.

You need to get your anxiety under control.
"But it still seems like a rough way to go. I mean, the fall isn't that far. What is that, two meters, give or take? If you fall off a building, you're dead instantly, but with this... no way you're not still awake when you hit the fan." He grimaces, "It's just not the method I would pick.""Right," he says, with a little too much force.
It doesn't seem to matter how many times suicide comes up while on a case, Kim really can't get used to him talking so casually about it. Harry runs through the pros and cons of possible methods with the confidence of a man who has spent a long time planning out his own exit from life.
I wouldn't tell him, if I was the one feeling suicidal.
 The detective seems to notice his discomfort, and he reaches out to grab Kim's hand. "Hey, I'm okay, you know? It's just pretty easy for me to get into the head of someone thinking that way."The lieutenant jumps at the unexpected touch, pulling his hand away quickly, as if he had plunged it into the hot steam. Usually, they don't touch each other in familiar ways when at work. He prefers to keep their private life private.He sees the way his boyfriend flinches, though, and feels a stab of guilt.
He doesn't like it when I make him feel like a secret.

Reassure him.
He can't quite thing of the right thing to say or do. Every possibility feels like it would make it obvious to any prying eyes that they are a couple, and the door to the turbine room is still standing wide open.
"Khm," he clears his throat, giving up. "Lets just keep focused."
You coward.
"So if I understand this right, you think it's an accident. Maybe he was intoxicated?" the lieutenant asks, trying to move past the moment.Harry is looking at him with an expression that makes Kim's lungs seize up in his chest. He opens his notebook again so he doesn't have to look into his eyes.After a moment longer, his partner finally answers him, realizing that he isn't going to get any comfort. "Maybe," he says, disappointment still clinging to his tone. "Or maybe he was already injured when he got here," he suggested. "There's nothing to suggest foul play, but he could have been pushed. We need to start eliminating the easiest possibilities. Lets order a tox screen if we can get one, and interview the workers. If he had a drug habit, someone here will know about it."
He turns away from Kim and continues down the catwalk toward the far end, to finish inspecting the rest of the room.The lieutenant follows him, glad to put the awkwardness of the whole interaction physically behind them. He says nothing more as they walk, and he is grateful that the noise of the turbines takes some of the pressure to make conversation away.
At the end of the walkway is an open freight lift, which is currently lowered to the bottom level, and a ladder beside it to the lower floor.Harry starts down the ladder first, and Kim waits until he's a reasonable distance down before following him. As he gets near the bottom, he hears the man call to him. "The ladder is a little loose down here, watch your step."He nods and says nothing. He is careful as he gets to the bottom, but his partner is also there holding the ladder steady for him.
"Thank you," he says as steps back onto solid ground. He turns and find that they are standing close to each other. For a moment, he thinks he should reach out and take his hand, now that they are fully in private.
He deserves an apology.

Not right now. We are at work.
 Instead, he turns and looks up at the huge machines towering over them. It's not quite as loud down here, because of how thick the sides of the turbines are, and the fact that the blades are closer to the top. The two officers are cast in shadow, as if standing below massive trees.
The lieutenant takes a few steps, looking up at them with a sense of awe, just from the sheer scale of it. Part of him feels like a little boy again, in a way he can't quite articulate.
It's been awhile since my job took me somewhere cool.
"Kim," his partner says from somewhere behind him, "look at this."He turns around and sees him crouching down next to the ladder. He is pointing at the ground.
"What is it?" he asks, squinting."It's a screw," Harry picks it up and holds it in his palm so his partner can see it. It's a chunky industrial screw, silver in color. It has no paint, but looks a little scratched and old.
"It looks like it fell out of the back of this ladder, that must be why it's loose." The detective tucks it into his pocket.Kim scribbles down the note. He's not sure if it's significant or not, but it's impossible to rule anything out right now.
He looks around again, this time focusing his policeman's eye. "There's also a shoe mark here," he adds helpfully, pointing it out with his toe.
That doesn't usually happen unless someone stumbles, or is in a hurry.
Harry looks at it, and then looks back at the ladder, judging the distance. "That close, someone had to jump up onto the ladder, or fall against it. Or jump down from it, I guess.""If the screw was already loose, any of those things could have knocked it free," Kim nods. "That could imply a chase- assuming the two things are related."The detective shrugs. "Hard to say," he says. "I can't tell if this mark is fresh or not, either." A flashlight shines down on them from the top of the ladder. A voice barks at them, sounding hostile and rushed, but the sound of the turbines drowns out the words. If it weren't for the light, they wouldn't have known anyone was up there at all.Harry looks up at the person, shielding his eyes.
Last time you looked into a bright light, it triggered your Trauma-and-Stressor Disorder. Let him handle this.
Kim looks up anyway.
At the top of the ladder is a man in an INSURCOM uniform. A large rifle is on his back."We're RCM," the detective yells up to him."This-" the middle of the sentence is garbled by the turbines "-employees only. Come up at once," the soldier demands."We have permission from the plant's general manager. Didn't you speak to her?" Kim yells."I will not-" more nonsense. "Now!" Harry grits his teeth and begins to climb the ladder.The lieutenant slips his notebook into his pocket, and then follows at his partner's heels. At the top, he finds himself folding his arms and frowning at the soldier.
The man points toward the door that leads back to the main hallway. He looks a little younger than the two of them; about Jean's age.Kim goes along with it, figuring that they can't speak with anyone over the sound of the turbines anyway. He stays quiet until they reach the hall.
Dr. Luipen is nowhere to be found.
She promised to wait for us.
"We're RCM," Harry says as the door is closed to drown out the noise. "We're here investigating a death.""The lower turbine room is a restricted area. Technicians only," the soldier insists.
He has a local accent.
"With respect," Kim says without any respect at all, "surely the general manager is the one who gets to make those calls. Why is INSURCOM involved?" He raises his brow."We have replaced local security for all pieces of vital infrastructure, to protect it from the terrorist threat," the man tells him. "This plant supplies half of Revachol with power. Keeping it running is vital to the interests of the people.""Like you care about the-"
"I understand how vital this plant is to Revachol, but we are the RCM, not terrorist insurgents." Kim cuts Harry off abruptly before he can say anything they will both regret.
Don't run your big communard mouth.
"We need free access to the facility for our investigation," Harry says.
The sense of relief Kim feels when his partner takes the hint, rather than argue, almost overshadows the anxiety of being shooed out of his investigation by an armed guard."I'm not here to impede civilian law enforcement," the soldier says. "But that area is the most vulnerable. It is off limits. Your crime scene isn't down there anyway, right?"
Neither of us actually declared it a crime scene.

Now isn't the time press this.

Be nice to him. A Vacholiere is more likely to cooperate than a foreign soldier.
"I suppose you're right," Kim concedes. He ignores the look of utter frustration his partner gives him. "I assume a warrant would be enough to grant us access to search further?"
He wants to ask about the plant manager's whereabouts, but he holds his tongue. The less they discuss with the soldier, the better. The fact that he wants to chase them away already has him feeling suspicious."That's not up to me. That would go the Sergeant," the man says."Seems like a pretty strict security protocol," Harry notes."Like I said, this plant supplies a huge amount of electricity to Revachol." The man leaves it at that."Yes, of course," Kim checks his watch.
"Well, I suppose we should go and interview the other witnesses, Detective," he adds, eager to get away from the armed guard."She said the staff was waiting in the break room," Harry says."The break room is just at the end of the hall," the INSURCOM soldier points toward the white door with the window open in."Thank you," the lieutenant nods politely, seeing no need to further antagonize the man. He turns and leads the way down the hall, thankful that the guard doesn't follow them. The break room is a white little kitchenette with a round table for employees to enjoy their lunch. It's fairly small, but large enough for the half dozen or so people who are gathered up inside.
The plant manager is standing in the middle of the room talking with her employees, her back to them as they come in. Most of the people here are standing, but an older man with greying, frizzy hair and a round face is at the table. He is sitting half slumped over it, next to a cup of cold coffee. A blonde woman is sitting next to him, her hand on his shoulder. The atmosphere is dreary.Kim feels a mix of relief and annoyance at the sight of the manager. "You said you would wait for us, madame," he chastises her before he can think better of it, in front of all of the employees.Dr. Luipen turns around. "Oh, yes. I'm very sorry officer," she says. "I just came to check on Frank for a moment. I didn't expect you to be done so soon," she remarks."Our investigation was cut short by a soldier," Harry explains."Ah... there's not much I can do about that, I'm afraid. INSURCOM took effective control of this facility weeks ago," she explains with a frown. "I hope he didn't cause you much trouble."His partner studies the plant manager with a blank expression, taking in her words and the way she moves. It's the habit of a detective's mind to be suspicious of everything. Kim can't tell based on his expression what his read of her is, though. He will have to ask later."It was inconvenient," the lieutenant says. "We were unable to conduct as thorough of an investigation because of it, but we will attempt to come back with a warrant.""Of course," Dr. Luipen nods. "Hopefully that will be enough. If you need anything from me, please let me know." "We will," Harry promises, before looking around. "Now... which one of you is Frank Harrington?"The vacant looking man sitting at the table raises one hand. His face is red from crying.The detective sits down across the table from him, and offers his hand to shake. "Hey there Frank," he says, defaulting to his first name. He always seems to get away with being overly familiar with people, somehow.
"I'm Lieutenant Double-Yefreitor Harry Du Bois, RCM," he introduces himself, "and this is my partner, Lieutenant Kitsuragi."Kim remains standing, but gives Frank and the woman next to him a little nod of acknowledgement.
"Is this everyone on staff?" he asks, looking over at Dr. Luipen."This is everyone on night crew," she assures him. "I did roll call after the body was discovered and had everyone meet here. The only one unaccounted for is Jeoseph Muñoz. He's your deceased."
That's not really the way I would expect most people to phrase it.

She's an engineer; a well educated woman.
"You were the one who made the call, right?" Harry asks Frank, trying to keep a gentle tone.The man at the table nods again, but still doesn't speak."Go easy on him, okay? He's been through a lot tonight," the woman sitting at Frank's side says."Of course," Kim says. "What's your name, ma'am?""Laura Sengar, I'm the night manager," she answers him."Laura answers directly to me," Dr. Luipen says. "She is the supervisor for the night shift.""A pleasure to meet you, Ms. Sengar," he says in a perfunctory way, noting down her name and job. "We understand that tonight has been traumatic for everyone, but we will need to collect statements from all of you."An uncomfortable silence falls over the room. No one really wants to discuss the tragic death of their coworker. It's so fresh for them. "Hey, why don't we get everyone some fresh coffee first?" Harry suggests, trying to ease them into a little bit. He reaches down to collect the cold cup from the table. "How do you take your coffee, Frank?"The traumatized man stares off into space with an expression far too familiar to the lieutenant. That's the look he's sure he had on his own face, after waking up just a couple hours ago.
Tonight will be the nightmare that wakes him up the rest of his life.
When he doesn't answer, it's Ms. Sengar who speaks for him. "He likes a dollop of milk, no sugar," she says, watching as the detective crosses the room.One of their coworkers pulls the milk out of the fridge for him. "How about I start?" The guy suggests, bravely offering to get the ball rolling."Sure," Kim says, looking at his paper and prepared to take the man's dictation."Night shift starts at 20:30 usually, but we were called in early to help with a major outage," the man begins."The one around 18:00 last night?" Harry asks. "We were caught in it too.""That's the one," one of the other workers confirms with a nod. "We haven't had an outage like that the whole time I've worked here.""What was the cause?" The detective asks them.For half a second, a strange ripple of discomfort rolls across the room.
Laura the night manager is the one who answers. "An unexpected surge in demand from somewhere on the grid redirected too much power at once, and blew out a couple of our repeaters," she explains.Kim makes his notes while Harry returns to the table with a cup of fresh coffee for their key witness. He noticed the short pause before she answered, but he doesn't have any reason to doubt the woman's words. Neither him, nor Harry, has the technical knowledge to challenge her explanation."Thanks," Frank takes the cup and stares down into it, not drinking it quite yet. "We restored power early this morning," he says. "When was that?" He looks up to the rest of the room."About 02:15, I think?" one of his coworkers supplies.Frank nods, "Yeah, that sounds right," he remarks. "After everything was restored, we started a thorough check of the system. That takes awhile, and everyone has to help out," he explains."So does that mean that as of 02:15, Muñoz was accounted for?" Kim asks, to clarify.Laura nods. "Yes. He was called in early with the rest of the night crew to help with the outage. He arrived about 15 minutes later than I asked him to, but he got to work right away.""What happened during the checks?" Harry asks, turning his attention back on Frank.
"It was all routine for a couple of hours. We were just finishing up when Turbine Fifteen went offline, so I went to go investigate, and that's when I-" he chokes up. "By the Innocence, there was so much blood..." he grimaces, breath shaking, and then slumps face down over the table to hide his tears.
If they're being honest, than our victim died after the power was restored, so his accident isn't related to the outage.
"If I may ask... how do you know the body belongs to Jeoseph?" Harry asks him gently. "We've been to the turbine. There's no way to identify anyone in that condition."Frank shakes his head, face still against the table. "I didn't know who it was until after Laura did roll call," he explains. His voice is somewhat muffled. "I just ran out of there yelling, and I called for her, and then I called you right away.""You did the right thing," his partner assures the man. he reaches out and sets his hand on the man's arm, patting it."While Frank was on the phone, I had all employees gather here, and then did a head count. The only people missing are Muñoz and Ricce. Ricce called out sick tonight," she explains. "Then I called Dr. Luipen, right after that," she nods toward the her boss.Kim nods. "And Dr. Luipen, what time did you arrive here tonight?"The woman looks at the clock hanging on the wall of their break room. "About 04:30," she says.The lieutenant nods, forming a rough timeline in his notes.
"We will need Muñoz's personnel file, so that we can make a positive ID," he tells her. "And his timecard as well, please.""You think that might be someone else down there?" The plant manager frowns. "This isn't the kind of place people visit in the dead of night. We hardly get visitors even in the day time."He glances toward the door, in the direction of Turbine Room C, where the INSURCOM soldier who chased them out is now standing guard.
"It's just routine," he tells her. "I am not expecting any surprises, but we have to be as certain as possible before we notify his family. It's not something we want to be wrong about; you understand."She nods. "I'll go gather up a file for you," she turns to do that, leaving the two officers alone with the staff. "Did you know Jeoseph well?" Harry asks Frank gently as the plant manager leaves the room.The man half shrugs. "Yeah, kind of. We weren't friends outside of work or anything, but he was a good guy. We've worked together a few years.""You probably knew him the best of all of us," a man says. The other handful of employees in the room nod in agreement."I'm sorry to have to ask this, but, was he troubled?" Harry asks. "Maybe drank on the job? Struggled with depression? Anything like that that?"The question is directed at Frank, but, Kim looks at the others too, scanning their faces for any tells."Damn, I don't think so," Frank finally straightens up again. His greying hair is frazzled, and his round face is red again with fresh tears. "He wasn't the kind to drink on the job. Real uptight sort of guy. Like your partner here."The lieutenant raises a brow and says nothing.
I'm not that uptight.

Yes you are. You never let yourself have any fun anymore.
"So that makes an accident unlikely," Harry muses to himself."Yeah, guess so..." the man frowns deeply, disturbed by that suggestion. "He always seemed fine, though. He's got a girl at home. He was going to be a father in a few months and was pretty excited for that. If he had any big problems, I didn't know about them."A brunette woman standing off to one side nods in agreement. "Jeoseph never seemed depressed or anything like that," she says.
That leaves foul play.

But there's no real evidence of that yet.
 Harry glances at the window in the break room door, and then leans over the table and lowers his voice. He motions for the other employees around to come closer.
"Can we ask about the INSURCOM soldiers?" He asks them with a near-whisper. "How long has that been going on?""A couple weeks I think," The woman from before muses. "They turned up around the same time as all the checkpoints. I don't know what happened; suddenly all the old security guards had been let go, even the ones who were here for years, and they replaced them.""How many are here at a time?" Kim asks."Four or five," Frank answers. "They keep to themselves, mostly."Laura nods. "That sounds about right to me. We used to only have two guards on site at once, too.""Have they been a problem for you?" Harry asks.Another uneasy silence falls over the room. It's brief, but telling.
"Well, there's... no, never mind," the man by the coffee maker says."No, go ahead," Kim presses him. "We want to know."He waves his hand. "It's nothing. They haven't bothered us, it's just a little unsettling to work around armed guards, that's all. I didn't think that we could be a target for terrorist attacks before all this, but they act like it's a real threat."
It's not, though. The Coalition knows that. ICM fighters haven't been striking random civilian targets.
"Any idea why they might have chased us out of the lower part of the turbine room?" The lieutenant asks, "What's down there?""There's nothing down there except cables and some switch boards. I don't know why they would get weird about that," Laura says. "It's not like you could have hurt anything. You need special tools to do anything to the turbines.""Would Jeoseph have gone down there as part of the checks after the outage?" Harry asks.
If there was foul play and INSURCOM was involved, they could be trying to hide it.
"Someone would have to, yeah," Frank says. "I guess that might have been what he was doing when he- he..." He chokes up, and then drops his head onto the table again.Harry rubs his thumb back and forth a little bit over the man's arm, to comfort him. "It's okay," he says, "you don't have to say it again.""Was anyone else in the area at the time?" Kim looks around the room.A different woman in the back puts her hand up a little, timid. "I was headed to Room A about that time. Must have been before Frank, because we didn't pass each other in the hall.""Did you see or hear anything out of place? Anything at all?" the lieutenant glances at the other faces in the room.
If someone here murdered Jeoseph and she saw them, she's unlikely to say so in front of them.
"I passed by O'Neil on the way," she looks to her coworker, unafraid, "but I didn't see anyone else."The man by the coffee maker nods, "I was coming here for my break," he supplies easily.
Likely innocent. He wasn't shy to share that.

Or maybe he's just confident.
"I also saw a guard," the woman adds. "He was walking away from me, probably on patrol.""One of the INSURCOM guards?" Kim raises a brow.
Do not allow your bias to cloud the investigation any further. It could be nothing.
She nods. "I don't know which one. We don't talk to them very much, I don't really know any of them."Harry looks over his shoulder at the door to the break room again- peeking at the figure that they can see through the narrow window.
"Was it the one outside Room C right now?" He asks her in a low voice.The woman walks over and peeks out the window. She puts her hand up to the textured glass and squints, trying to get a clear view through it.
"No," she shakes her head as she steps away. "Not that one. The one I passed was older than him, and starting to grey." Kim makes a note of it.
"Before we go," he glances toward the door, but doesn't see anyone except the guard in the hall, "I want to ask about the plant manager." He keeps his voice low. "She's pretty new, right?"They all nod.
"Dr. Luipen seems nice. She got here about 6 months ago.""So she didn't work here before she got the job?" Harry asks.Laura shakes her head. "No, she was hired from outside the company, I think. None of us know her that well."Kim is not entirely sure what to do with that fact, or how it might fit into the wider case, but he has a feeling that something about the woman is off.
"Do you know what she did before this?" He asks."She never said," one of the men muses. "She went to university in Sur la Clef, though, I remember she mentioned that.""How is she getting on with the guards?" Harry asks."She and I both interact with them a little more than the rest of the employees," Laura the night manager says. "I don't know how she feels about them personally. She's not the kind of person who gossips."
Dr. Luipen seems like a private person.
"That's fine," Kim makes a note. They can try to crack her shell directly, if they need to.
He looks to his partner. "Any other questions?" he asks him.Harry shakes his head. "No, I don't think so," he says. "We may come and visit again if we need to," he gets to his feet, and pats Frank's arm. "Take care of yourselves, okay?"The lieutenant fishes a little stack of business cards out of his pocket and sets them on the table of the break room. "If any of you think of anything that might relevant, don't hesitate to call." After picking up the personnel file from the general manager, the two officers get into the Kineema to head toward the silk mill for the morning.
"What do you think?" Kim asks Harry as they pull out of the gravel parking lot."I'm not sure yet," his partner says. "We need to get into the bottom floor if we're going to have any hope of knowing what's going on.""I will start paperwork for a warrant," he says with a nod.
Something is weird about Dr. Luipen too.
He doesn't voice the thought, unable to articulate exactly why she unsettles him.
"Do you want to stop for breakfast?" He asks the detective as they enter the more populated part of the city.
In spite of the night's events, it's shaping up to be a beautiful morning.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Harry slumps in his chair. A thin ray of light shines in from the slit window near the top of the office, where his, Jean's, and Kim's desks are all wedged. He is half heartedly looking over the notes that the cleanup crew has given him from THE ELECTRIC TRAGEDY case.Dozens of glossy photographs of the scene are attached to the file, attempting to capture as much detail as possible before the cleanup. A list of items recovered from the turbine is included as well, including scraps fabric from clothing, pocket change, and pieces of a key card.
The key card was enough to confirm the identity of the deceased.The detective draws a deep breath to prepare himself, and then picks up the phone. He dials the home number that was provided in the man's personnel file.
It rings twice... three times... four times...Finally, someone answers.
"Jo?" The voice is cracking, strained. She's trying to be hopeful that it will be him on the other end, but on some level, this woman already knows the news that Harry has called to give her."Good afternoon. Is this Ms. Bevry?" Harry asks."Oh," she says, "I hoped... never mind. Yes, this is Ms. Bevry, what can I do for you?""My name is Harrier Du Bois. I'm calling with the RCM," he says gently.
The silence on the other end of the phone is all consuming.
After a moment, he continues, "I'm afraid I have some bad news. Jeoseph Muñoz was found deceased Monday morning."More silence.Harry is about to ask if she is still on the line, when her voice cuts through, louder and angrier than he is expecting. "Why the hell am I only getting a call now?"He hasn't done this very many times that he can remember. People react in different ways, and some get angry, but this is the first time he's had anger thrown at him in a direct way.
Don't take it personally.

You would feel horrible in her position.
Harry reaches up and adjusts his tie, suddenly unable to get a full breath. "The body wasn't in a state easy to identify, we needed to-""What the fuck does that mean?" She interrupts him.
Nice going, dirt bag. You're supposed to be sensitive.

But truthful.
"I'm sorry, miss," he says, trying to keep his voice even. "What I mean is, we always wait until we are certain of someone's identity before we call families. Some cases just take longer than others.""What happened to him?" It's a question, but she says it with the inflection of a statement. A demand."Ma'am?" A feeling of trepidation is slowly overtaking him, crawling up from his feet, to his knees, and finally settling in his gut. Over the phone likely isn't the best way to tell her the details, but, getting around the city is hard nowadays. A house call just isn't possible, otherwise they would have made one.
He's not sure he wants to describe what the scene was like, afraid of setting her off, or making this situation worse."You heard me. What happened to my boyfriend?" She asks again."Um-" Harry looks over at Kim for help, but the man has buried his nose in his own work, avoiding his eyes.
He's going to leave you to handle this alone.

Prick.

You should have expected it. He doesn't handle emotions well, you know that.
"I asked you a question!" Her voice is twisting from angry to distraught, as her tears change the quality of the sound.The detective glances over at Jean, who is reading the paper. When the man looks up and meets his eyes, he mouths, 'help me.'Jean rustles his newspaper a little bit, and goes right back to reading it, offering him no backup what-so-ever.
Useless, both of them. You're strong enough to deal with this yourself.
"This is going to be unpleasant to hear," Harry says, unable to put it off any longer. He draws another nervous breath, "He fell into one of the generators, while it was running," there's no good way to say it. "The results were-"
Be careful what you say.
"-well, that's why it took us a little more time to confirm his identity. I'm very sorry for your loss."She doesn't reply, but he can hear stilted breathing as the woman tries to choke back tears."If you have any family you can stay with-"
There's a soft click as she hangs up, cutting him off.
That went terribly.
 Harry lets out a heavy breath, and puts the phone back in the cradle. He twists in his chair to look over his shoulder, at his two partners.
"Thanks for nothing, boys," he scowls."You are more adept with those situations than I am," Kim replies simply. "There wasn't anything I could have added to help.""You just wanted to avoid it because it makes you uncomfortable," he grumbles, only half under his breath. He ignores the frown that earns him from his lover.
"Whatever, I kind of expected it," he adds at his normal volume, "but you too Jean? Really?"Vicquemare puts the newspaper down at last. "What was I supposed to do, Harry? Did you expect me to pick up the phone and jump into that conversation? It would have made things worse; make her think we're listening in on her," he shakes his head.
That's probably true.
"Besides, I didn't want to deal with it," he adds."At least you're honest," Harry stands up, itching for a cigarette. "I'm going on a break."
He strides out of the office, closing the door a little too hard behind him. The detective makes his way to the little covered breezeway where some of the men go to smoke. The day is much prettier than it has any right to be. It is nearly cloudless, with the sun shining down on Revachol, and a light, refreshing breeze blowing in from the ocean. The tone is in utter contrast to the mood of the city. He walks down the covered walkway outside the mill, and turns the corner to where the ashtray is, overlooking the gravel yard. Pryce's horse is hitched up to a post to one side, covered from the weather and enjoying some hay. A smattering of motor carriages are parked in no particular pattern across the lot, including the Kineema.
In the ashtray to his right, a red-label Astra cigarette is still burning. He inhales the smell of it, finding it deeply calming.
Take it. You've earned that smoke.
Harry glances around, trying to see if the owner of the cigarette is still nearby. Perhaps they just set it down for a moment while they do something that needs both hands? The yard is empty though.
He reaches down and picks it up. There's not a lot left, but just enough for him to get a little nicotine.It hits him in a way that is deeply satisfying, pulling a small groan from his lips. The rush is so much stronger than he remembers.
That's the stuff. Why did you ever give this up, again?
 Familiar footsteps ring off the stone of the building as someone approaches, and Harry feels a jolt of panic. "Shit," he mutters.
He drops the butt to the ground and stamps it out, but when he glances up, he realizes he's too late- Kim has just stepped around the corner.Kim raises a brow at him. "Ah."
For half a second, they say nothing, just standing there making eye contact. The man's reaction is kind of hard to gauge.Harry grimaces to himself, and then turns to look back over the parking lot, leaning on the railing again. Either his boyfriend will come yell at him, or he won't, but the damage is done either way. No use in pretending he wasn't caught red-handed.He hears the man's footsteps close the distance between them. He stands at his side, leaning on the railing and overlooking the lot, and the city beyond. It's not a bad view from up here.
"You really shouldn't be smoking, Harry," the lieutenant's voice doesn't sound angry, only a little disappointed. "It's bad for your heart."Something tightly wound inside him relaxes, relieved.
Don't let him tell you what to do.

You needed that cigarette.
"Yeah, I know..." he says, ignoring the insistent voices in his mind. "I'm sorry. I just- it was here and lit and by the Innocence do I ever need a smoke after that call," the detective chances a sideways glance, trying to read his partner's expression once more."I should have tried to help," Kim says.
He would have preferred a real apology, but that statement is good enough."Forget it. It's over now anyway," Harry taps his fingers on the railing rhythmically, trying to not think about the taste of the cigarette on his tongue, or the rush, or the balm of the smoke."For whatever it's worth, I think you did well," the lieutenant reaches into his pocket and produces his own pack of chestnut-flavored filter tips. He rarely smokes around him at all anymore, but this time, he goes ahead and lights one up, before taking a long drag from it. "Those conversations are never easy," he adds as he exhales.
The two of them stand in silence, just taking the little moment to decompress while Kim sips on the smoke. After a minute or so, he offers it to Harry."...yeah?" the detective reaches out, but he hesitates to take it. "I can?""Just a little," Kim says. "I would rather you be smoking than slipping back into anything else."
He doesn't want you to hide it from him, either.

Hiding smoking is impossible. The smell is too strong.
Harry accepts the cigarette. The word 'thank you' hangs on the tip of his tongue, but doesn't manage to leave his mouth. He feels like Kim owes him this, after leaving to flounder alone on the phone.
He takes a deep puff from it. Kim's cigarettes are so much rougher than the Astras, but they smell like him, and that more than makes up for it. He passes the butt back as he exhales. "So, what's with you the last couple days, huh?" the detective finally asks as he allows the smoke to come tumbling out of his mouth.Kim raises a brow at him, and takes the cigarette back. "What do you mean?""You're having more nightmares. You're distant. Yesterday at the power plant you jumped like you thought I was going to hit you," Harry lists off examples. "You don't seem like yourself."The lieutenant smokes his cigarette, taking a few moments to collect his words.
"I think it's just the stress of everything going on," he says. "I'm sorry about yesterday. I don't mean to take it out on you.""It's not so much that you take things out on me, but more that you push me away." he takes half a step sideways, so their shoulders are touching"I know," his boyfriend says, allowing it. "I don't do it on purpose, but... I know."Harry takes his hand, and he is delighted when he feels Kim give his a little squeeze. There's no reason not to; they are all alone, and everyone in C-wing already knows that they are together, but he still half expected him to pull away.
"I just feel like you want us to be a secret, sometimes.""It's..." Kim pauses for far too long, and the detective feels a lump grow in his throat.
Oh no, it's true. He's ashamed of you.
"It's not that I want to keep it a secret," his boyfriend tries to explain. "I suppose some of it is an old habit. I didn't have the luxury of coasting through the thirties by dating women."
Like you did.

Homo-sexuality wasn't decriminalized until the forties.

Hiding his relationships was very much a matter of safety. Especially as a police officer.
 "Maybe you can bring that up at your support group?" Harry suggests.When he started going to his addiction recovery meetings, Kim attended the first session or two with him. The same was not true when the lieutenant began to attend a support group for his own problems. He wanted to go on his own, and Harry didn't press the matter. For the most part, they don't talk about it. He knows his boyfriend is a private person, and he carries more than a little shame over having mental health struggles in the first place.
But he needs a little nudge.
The lieutenant shakes his head. "It's not a Trauma-and-Stressor thing, Harry," he says. "It's just the way it used to be. Bigotry didn't vanish overnight just because the law changed, either.""I don't know, it kind of sounds like it is," he isn't willing to let it go that easily. "I mean, having to hide something like that from everyone? Being celibate or risk being jailed? That all sounds pretty traumatic to me."
Harry has the privilege of a more-or-less clean slate. He doesn't remember what life was like, for men like them, before the current decade. He's sure he must have felt the pressure, but he is also attracted to women, and probably had more opportunities to hide among mainstream society.
Without memories of violence and harassment, he isn't afraid of bigots when they are out together. At worst, people have been rude to them. No one has ever escalated it beyond that.He knows that Kim feels that fear, though. It's as plain as day in the way he tenses up when people notice them, and the way he shies away from even the most innocent forms of affection in public. It's like he's always just waiting to be jumped.
Maybe he's been the victim of violence in the past.

He is homo-sexual and half Seolite, marginalized on both sides. He would have been an easy target, back in the day.
Kim finishes his cigarette, and snuffs it out in the overflowing ashtray. "Fine," he says firmly. "I'll bring it up."
A lie, my liege.

He's just trying to appease you, so the subject can move on.
Harry frowns. "Good," he says, hoping he's wrong that Kim has no intention of following through. "I think you should." The question about his past is on his lips, but he hesitates to ask. The lieutenant is such a closed book, even to him, and he never says much about his past. When he does, it's only about his time in the RCM. "Hey, baby, can I ask you something?""Don't call me that at work," Kim straightens up, prepared to go back inside."Right, yeah. Sorry. I just... what were the thirties like?" He asks him.His boyfriend taps his foot, in a mix of anxiety and impatience. "It was a more carefree time," he tells him. "You were surely coming into your own, at the time," he adds, almost amused. "The economy was good, people were making money, everyone was pretty optimistic about the future. At least until the failure of the People's Pile.""No, I meant... what were they like for you?" He presses a little more."I was in the early years of my career with the RCM for most of that decade," he says, looking at his watch. "The environment was even more macho back then than it is now.""You said you didn't have the luxury of coasting through by-" he tries to push a little harder, but his boyfriend cuts him off."It's a time I would prefer to leave in the past," Kim says. He can hear the way he's trying to restrain his tone and not snap at him.
"Come on, we should be getting back." The lieutenant doesn't give him another chance, turning and starting back down the breezeway.Harry lets out a sigh, and follows him. Jean is on the phone when the two of them enter the office again.
"Mmhm," he says. He is tilting his head at an odd angle, to hold the phone in place with his shoulder as he digs around for something to write with. "We can arrange a meeting, that's fine."Harry steps inside and goes right to his desk, grabbing a bit of scratch paper for him. He hands it to Jean, who just nods a curt, silent thanks."22:00," he repeats the caller. "Mercy's, on Boogie Street... Yes, I know it."Kim is just sitting down at his desk again, but he looks up at Jean, recognition crossing his face for a moment."Right. We'll see you there," Vicquemare scribbles down the note. "Don't drink too much before we show," he adds, before saying goodbye and hanging up the phone.
It's always better for informants to be sober.
"Which case?" Harry asks in interest, the moment his partner is off the phone."Électricité Jamrock," Vicquemare answers. "Sounds like a potential witness, but he's pretty desperate to remain anonymous. Wants to meet tonight at a club on boogie street called Mercy's.""I'm familiar with that place," the lieutenant says, "It's relatively far south on Boogie Street; probably at least two checkpoints from here.""Kim!" Harry cries in fake horror, setting one hand on his chest. "You never told me you knew about clubs."
To his delight, his boyfriend's ears go a little pink at that. It helps to wash away the tension of the earlier conversation"Mercy's is a f#-" Jean cuts himself off from whatever he was about to say, shut down by a glare from Lieutenant Kitsuragi. "It's a particular kind of place," he corrects himself.
He doesn't seem surprised that Kim knows about it.
"It's a cabaret club," the lieutenant supplies. "It has been around a long time; I used to go in my twenties."
What kind of cabaret would a young Kim be going to?
"It's not that important," he adds, dismissing the topic with a little hand motion. "Jean and I will take care of the meeting."
You are not allowed within a hundred meters of a club, after what happened last time.
Harry nods. "I'll take the tram home tonight, then. No, wait! I'll stay with Jean! Then I can pick his outfit," he grins over at his friend."Don't just invite yourself over to my flat, Harry! For fucks' sake," Jean argues.The detective is undaunted. "No, I'm staying tonight," he says cheerfully, leaning back in his chair. "It'll be fun."For all that Vicquemare grumbles about it, he doesn't really put his foot down. -- “This rationing is going to be a problem,” Judit says, leaning against the wall at the foot of the stairs.It's 17:35, and most of C-wing has crammed themselves into the small basement of the barbershop where Captain Pryce and Gottlieb hold their ICM meetings. The two men are seated at a little round table, meant for the barbers on their breaks, but most of the rest of them have to stand.
All around the room are shelves filled with crates of weapons, munitions, medical supplies, and emergency survival gear. Things like capes, hair clippers and shampoo are packed on top in each box, to disguise the real contents.“No it won’t,” Torson lights a cigarette, ignoring the dirty look both Kim and Judit shoot his way.
You've already smoked one today, it's not a big deal.

They don't want you exposed any more than you have to be.
“Just do some meal planning or something,” the officer adds. “You’re good at planning ahead.”Jean scowls from his spot in the corner. “Shut up, Sergeant. You don’t have a family to feed on a patrol officer’s salary,” he jumps to his friend’s defense.“Jean, it’s okay,” Judit says patiently.
“We all have different things to worry about, Mack,” she adds, “but this is really going to impact me and my family.”“Well,” Kim says in his most pragmatic voice, “Since Torson isn’t worried about buying groceries on a ration, then I’m sure he’ll have some stamps to spare for you. Won’t you, Sergeant?”Silence falls over the room. Harry hides a small snicker behind his hand, admiring the way his partner can so thoroughly put someone in their place.“An excellent solution,” Pryce agrees. “This is a deliberate attempt to get ahead of us, and we will need to pool resources to get through it. They want to keep us so busy with our day to day living that we won't be able to organize or strike against them."“And it might work, Captain,” Judit says with a worried frown. “I picked up my ration book this morning. It's even more stringent than our wages, and I'm not the only one involved with Le Retour who has a family to support."“I know,” the man nods gravely. “But we we were prepared for this possibility. We have contacts inside farming and fishing communities outside the city," Pryce informs them. "Our civilian branch will take the lead on tapping them and setting up covert foodbanks."
Approximately one-third of all the food produced on Le Caillou is exported.
The light in the ceiling begins to hum, and then gets noticeably brighter for a few seconds."If people are lining up at foodbanks, then they won't be covert that long," Jean says."Most of them will be to supply operatives," the captain says, "There will some public ones in key locations as well. I will give each of you the location of the depot nearest to your homes. Protect it with your lives. Supply and logistics is not this cell's main assignment, but Judit is right: it is absolutely vital."
An army marches on its stomach.
“Do not allow worries about food to distract you. You all need to stay focused," Captain Pryce says.“What if there’s a blockade?” McLaine asks. “My grandfather said last time INSURCOM got involved, they cut the city off from all travel and supplies for more than a month.”
Its true. They attempted to starve the communards out.
"I wouldn't be too concerned," Kim jumps in. "Revachol is the central stop for virtually all aerostatic travel in Elysium."
The forces of gravity from the isolas can change the trajectory of things in the Pale. It's not as simple as throwing something in a straight line, routes have to be planned carefully.
"They may blockade us from the rest of Le Caillou, but there's not much they can do unless they are prepared to shut down almost all inter-isola travel. I doubt all the members of the Coalition would be on board with that," Kim adds.Pryce nods in agreement. "This isn't the turn of the century anymore," he affirms. "Our position is key to inter-isola trade. A siege of that scale would be very risky for them."
INSURCOM could lose member state support for such a move. Or even create allies for Revachol in the process.

That’s why they’ve been cracking down so hard and so fast. They want to crush Le Retour before a blockade even needs to be considered.
 The light overhead once again fluctuates. With a bright flash and a loud click, it explodes. They are plunged into darkness, just as Harry feels a piece of the glass hit his chest.A moment later, and half the people in the room, his partner included, have produced lighters from their pockets, creating small sources of light for them. They cast eerie shadows over everyone's faces."I think that tripped the circuit," Judit says, looking up the stairs. The door at the top is closed, but there is a small line of light coming through the bottom. Whether it's artificial light, or sunlight, is hard to say."That looks like the box, behind you," Harry points over her shoulder.She turns around and sets her hand on the wall, looking for it. When she finds the breaker box, there's a moment where she is stooped over, trying to read the labels and figure out which switch they need to throw.
A moment later, there's a few chunky sounding clicks, and the light hanging over the staircase comes back on.Harry looks up to the ceiling above him, where the base of the exploded bulb is still sitting in the fixture. Bits of broken glass are all over the floor, in every corner of the room."There must be a spare somewhere," Pryce says. "Torson, go upstairs and ask Jay. And get a broom."The man stomps out his cigarette before moving to follow the order. Pryce looks back to the rest of them. The bulb from the staircase light gives them enough light to see each other, even if it isn't as much as they want.
We should be a lot more worried about all of this electricity they are siphoning, than we should be about a blockade," he says seriously.
They are constructing our doom.
"Don't we have any intel?" Harry asks, trying to ignore the voice whispering to him about the end of times.
Their cell is mostly on standby, doing support tasks until they are needed for the unpleasant task of violence. In the meantime, they do what they can."Not yet," it's Gottlieb who answers. "That's part of what scares me. We're operating in the dark here.""We haven't been able to recruit many communications officers from the RCM, outside of Pidieu," Pryce admits, "and INSURCOM is working with better technology than we are. We need some radiocomputer experts if we're going to get ahead of whatever they are planning."
You know a radiocomputer expert.
"I think I know someone who might be able to help," Harry supplies.The room looks at him."Her name is Soona. She helped during our investigation in the THE HANGED MAN case, in Martinaise."
More like, you helped her.

Even better. Now she owes you a favor.

Joining a revolution is a big favor to ask.
"And you think she would help us?" Pryce asks."Yes."
"No."Harry and Kim speak simultaneously. The detective looks over at his partner and frowns. "Why don't you think she'd help us? Soona is great, she'll come through.""I'm sure she wouldn't side against us," Kim clarifies, "but she is very... singular minded. I have a hard time picturing her becoming involved in something like this.""Spying on INSURCOM? Come on, that'd be a challenge she couldn't resist," Harry insists stubbornly. "It's worth asking, at least."Pryce shakes his head. "No. We shouldn't reach out to anyone if we don't know where their loyalties lay," he says. "It isn't your job to worry about that anyway. Gottlieb and I will handle recruitment. I need you boys to focus on the power plant."Harry lets out a sigh and shakes his head. "We were chased out. We need a warrant before we do anything else.""Do what you need to do to get down there," Pryce says.
If you need to trespass, he will not report it.
Judit nods in agreement. "Having a case there is the best gift we could ask for. It will give you an excuse to poke around. Even better than hacking."
They're wrong. You need Soona.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Kim steps out of the Kineema after Jean, and locks the door. Just a block down the road from them, they can see the neon marquee for the cabaret club they will be visiting.
FEATURING: MERCY'S MAYBELLS - TWICE NIGHTLY
The lieutenant glances at his partner.
He hasn't been here since he was younger, but he vividly remembers the performances inside. Jean is accepting of queerness, although not particularly sensitive; but there's a difference between quietly supporting his gay friends, and actually going to a place like this.
He feels a little nervous about what the man will think.The club itself is an interesting choice for this meeting, far away from both the silk mill and the power plant. He can't help but ponder the reason behind it.
Perhaps he is signaling that he is part of the homo-sexual community.

Or, he's arranged this meeting for a place he expects none of his superiors would be. For safety.

That's a strong possibility. If any random person were to think of a 'gay club' in Revachol, it would be this place.

If he's caught meeting someone here covertly, he has a good excuse for being secretive.
Whatever the reason, Kim can't completely shrug it off.
The club has always been a symbol for the counter culture of the city- not just for the queer community it serves, but for socialists, punks, immigrants, artists, and just about anyone else who doesn't fit neatly into society.During the Antecentennial Revolution, its bright marquee served as a landmark for navigating the war torn city, for communards and loyalists alike. Once, after Boogie Street had been shelled, the neighborhood banded together to repair and power those lights, before fixing up anything else. Neighbors who were at each other's throats over the war could agree on one thing: this sign, and by extension the club it belongs to, was worth saving.
A literal beacon of hope.
It nearly went out of business in the twenties. It was shuttered and in a kind of liminal state while the owners tried to decide what to do with it, when the measles outbreak occurred. They opened the doors to those who were suddenly stranded outside the quarantine zone of The Pox, away from their homes and families. They sheltered nearly a hundred people in the building, until they were able to go home, or find new homes. Those residents helped to re-open it under the name Mercy's.In the thirties, a series of marches and riots demanding the decriminalization of homo-sexuality and other "transgressive behavior" were organized there. It was raided countless times by the RCM, but a particularly nasty raid in the summer of '36 made headlines, and began to sway public opinion in favor of legalization.
I knew people who were arrested in that raid.
 "Have you been here before?" Kim asks Vicquemare as the two of them walk toward the place.
That was a ridiculous question.
"Yeah," Jean says casually, stuffing his hands in his pockets.The lieutenant does a double-take, completely take off guard.
He raises an eyebrow. "Really?""Well, it's a city landmark, isn't it?" The man shrugs. He doesn't seem to think its a big deal at all.
Not the most popular of tourist stops, but something on the list of sights for history buffs.
"Besides, Harry dragged me here a few times. Every few months he would loudly declare that women were a lost cause, drive us down here, and then shoehorn me into 'being his wingman' the rest of the night."Kim sets his face in one hand and heaves an exhausted sigh."Wipe that expression off your face," Jean grunts. "You lost the right to be embarrassed by him when you asked him to take you back."His ears burn hot at those words, and he shoots him a look that is part anger, part surprise, and part embarrassment.
I didn't realize Harry told him that part.
"Khm," he clears his throat. "Yes, well, at least you know what to expect when we go inside," he tries to just move the subject along."I sure do," Vicquemare says with a serious nod. "1 reál drink special."
That had better be a joke.
Kim says nothing, but looks at his watch pointedly, trying to remind him that they are 'on the clock.' This is a work meeting.
If the man gets his hint, he doesn't show it. They step through the gilded doors under the iconic marquee. Before it was a club, this building was a theater, and the ticket box is still in use between in the inner and outer doors, in order to collect the cover charge. There's a young man in there tonight, protected by metal bars.
Legend has it that it's the oldest standing theater in Revachol.

That seems unlikely.
The lieutenant steps up to pay. The clerk is young, slender in build, clean shaven. He reminds Kim a little of himself when he was that age. He isn't asked to show ID.
I must look about 50 to him.
They step through the interior set of doors, to the club proper. There is already a performance in progress; a male singer, dressed in a beautiful satin green, fitted ballgown. His face is done up in sophisticated, but gaudy makeup; an exaggerated show of femininity. He is singing a slow, mournful song with an impressive vocal range."Why did you pay?" Jean asks just as they step inside. "Our badges would have gotten us in for free. We're on official business."Kim stops raises a brow at him."What?" the man asks.
If he doesn't understand why cops might be unwelcome at a place like this, I'm not sure that I can explain it to him.
They pass through the main area of the floor, where the orchestra seats for the theater once were. They've all been removed and replaced with small round tables, illuminated by electric lamps. There are two bars, one on each side of the theater, and equally crowded. The lieutenant begins to make his way toward the left one.
"Given Revachol's history, I'm sure you understand why the RCM wouldn't be appreciated here," he says quietly."This, from the man who looks like a cop even in plain clothes," Jean snorts.The urge to tell him to shut up is momentarily overwhelming, but he keeps his mouth shut. He would be far more comfortable attending this meeting alone, so he doesn't have to try to haul an outsider through the underground culture.
I would be the least conspicuous if I came here with Harry.

His constantly unprofessional demeanor would be an asset.

And he would absolutely love a drag show.

But bringing him here would be begging for him to relapse again.
 A muscular woman with a septum piercing and colorful tattoos is making the drinks at the bar. She is wearing a tank-top that shows off her buff arms, in contrast to some of the patrons, who are dressed in formal attire. The dress code is rather eclectic, though. There are people dressed in casual attire, in full formal wear, in street fashions, in leathers, and in full drag.
They are lucky for this in many ways- Kim couldn't go home to prepare like Jean could, but he didn't need to. Shedding any layers with identifying marks for the RCM is good enough to make him not stand out. That's often what he did when he was young, anyway.He steps up to the bar and orders a beer when the woman has a moment, before looking around for the person who might be their contact. When the singer on stage finishes, he applauds politely. "Who do you think it is?" He asks Jean quietly as he sips his drink.His partner is quiet for a long moment, scanning the crowd with keen, trained eyes. "9 o'clock," Jean indicates, without pointing.The lieutenant looks over in that direction. He sees a man standing at the bar across the room, dressed in urban-toned camouflage pants, and a muscle shirt. He's not wearing anything with the INSURCOM logo on it, but, just like Kim has, it seems clear that he simply shed his identifying layers, in order to blend into this crowd a little better.
He feels a tightness in his stomach, as recognition hits him.
That is the man who chased us out of our crime scene.
"I see him," he remarks. "He was there when Harry and I went," he adds with trepidation. "Lets just watch him for a minute."
He looks at his watch. If they let him think they aren't going to show, and he's here with anyone else, his conspirator will be flushed out after long enough.
And we can always stop him, if he tries to leave alone.
 He and Jean wait a while, watching the man as they drink their beers, and enjoy the variety show on stage.
Just about the time he's looking antsy and like he might leave, the two officers finally cross the cabaret floor to intercept him.As they pick their way through the tables, Kim glances to his partner. "Let me do the talking," he advises.
If the man chose this particular place because he is familiar with the culture, it would be best to not allow Jean to open his mouth.Vicquemare shrugs. "All yours, partner," he grunts, just letting him have it.The lieutenant takes a few steps ahead, so that he arrives to the bar first. "Bonjour," he greets, raising his glass as he leans his arms against the bar next to him.The soldier looks at Kim, recognizing him right away, and then glances back at Jean as well.
"I thought you weren't going to show," he says as he takes a sip of his drink."Mm. Apologies. We were waylaid at the checkpoint," he lies smoothly."No. You've been standing across the room for twenty minutes to see if I'm alone," he counters. His tone isn't angry, though.
He's more observant than I thought.

Do not assume he's naïve.
Kim clears his throat. "Yes, well... that's how these things have to go, sometimes," he admits awkwardly. "You have information for me?""Yeah, I get it." The solider takes another sip of his drink, and then nods. "I don't know who else to turn to. Maybe your lot can hold them accountable.""Hold who accountable? Your... employers?" Kim does him the service of not advertising to any nearby ears that he is INSURCOM. Police officers are one thing; the RCM are at least locals, and some officers are closeted members of the community themselves. An occupying soldier, on the other hand, would not last long in this place even if he is native born.
He might know that. He's from here.
 The lieutenant digs into his pants pocket and produces his notepad as the man nods.
"Just tell us what happened," he prompts him."Okay," he lets out a little breath. "Four days ago, I was working the overnight guard shift for the power plant with two others, and our Corporal," he tells them. "Around 02:00 I was given a folder with the protocol from the private security team. It had how often they did rounds, their routes, the evacuation and medical emergency protocols... you know, that kind of thing. I was told to gather up all the employees and the supervisor and go over all the safety stuff.""In the middle of the night?" Jean asks. "Shouldn't that be covered in an all-staff meeting or something?"
It stands out to Kim, too.The INSURCOM soldier shrugs. "I don't know. Questions aren't really appreciated most of the time, and, it didn't seem worth it to ask. Anyway, I did as I was told and gathered everyone up in the break room. I went for a piss about 15 minutes into it, and saw Corporal Sandrick letting a sergeant and two engineers out of Turbine Room C."The lieutenant's look of shock can't really be disguised. It takes him a moment to process that information, and get control over his face again.
I knew it. It was just too suspect.
"So... they used you for a distraction?" He tries to clarify."I mean, it sure looks that way, doesn't it?" The guy starts to fidget with a centime on the counter. He glances toward the door, as if worried he might be caught.
"I thought it was just the four of us there. We weren't told that any officers were visiting. Usually they tell us something like that, want us to be extra disciplined.""Did they see you?" Jean asks immediately.He shakes his head, "I don't know. I don't think so. They weren't looking at me, but it's not like I tried to hide, either. I didn't think I was doing anything wrong, you know? It's not like any bodies had turned up yet. Nobody has said anything about it to me, at any rate.""Why didn't you tell us when we came to investigate?" Kim asks. "We were alone in the turbine room, and the noise in there was more than enough for privacy."He shrugs with one shoulder. "I didn't know if I should. I'm not even sure if I should be telling you now," he admits.
"I mean, for one thing, maybe they did see me," he adds.
"My job has a lot of secrets going on, but... I enlisted to help protect Revachol, and something about this feels wrong."He nods in understanding. He joined the RCM with similar motivations, looking to demonstrate his allegiance to his home. They might be on opposite sides, but Kim won't allow that to get in the way of justice for the man who was killed. He focuses on that, rather than politics.
"Was that the only thing you saw?" He asks.The man shakes his head and then takes a big draft from his beer.
"No. The morning of the 'accident,' I saw the corporal leave that room. Maybe 10 minutes before the body was discovered?" Excitement at fitting a new piece of the puzzle, and dread at its implications, settle into Kim's gut in equal parts. He flicks through his notebook quickly, looking for his interview notes from the electrical plant.
"Corporal Sandrick... is he starting to go grey?"The soldier nods. "Yeah.""Thank you," Kim makes the note. "That's very helpful.""I don't even know if him being there means anything," he adds hastily. "It's not like it's unusual to look inside the turbine rooms on rounds."
He's anxious, worried that he is betraying his superiors.
"It probably doesn't," Jean lies to put him at ease, "but it's still a good thing you told us."The lieutenant nods along. "Having a clear view of the timeline always helps," he says. He looks up and meets the man's eyes.
They are pale blue. He held himself and spoke like a soldier at the power plant, but here he is just a regular Vacholiere.
Lean into that.
"You are doing the right thing," he assures him. "We're here for Revachol. You grew up here, didn't you? You know that.""Yeah," the man lets out an anxious sigh, and then drops a few reál onto the counter to pay for his drinks."Is there anything else we should know?" Kim licks the tip of his pen."Um. Maybe? We've been told to 'encourage' the staff to run the generators overtime," he admits to them. "I know we've set up an agreement with them to send excess power to the base, so that's probably why. I don't really know if that has anything to do with anything, though."It doesn't surprise him in the least, but he writes it down dutifully anyway. Having explicit confirmation of the siphoning for Pryce is still valuable.
"Can we have your home number, in case we have more questions?" Kim asks.He shakes his head, "I'm not staying at home anymore, they have us all staying on base. But I'll call from a payphone if I think of anything else," he promises. "This- this is anonymous, right?""Of course," Jean assures him. "It's like I told you on the phone: we know how to protect our informants." Their conversation is interrupted by sudden, dramatic music from the stage. The entire crowd in the cabaret erupts into applause and loud cheering at the sound of the opening tune for the headline act, with many people getting to their feet.
Kim glances at his watch. 22:33, the first showing of the night.A drag queen in a sparkling white dress steps up to the microphone, and speaks in a smoky voice, "Good evening Revachol!"
The cheering gets louder.
"I am Miss Mercy, and these are-" there's a drumroll "-My Maybells!" The queen picks the microphone up from its stand and carries it with her as she takes a few steps to stage right, gesturing with an open arm.A line of glamorous cabaret queens dressed all in white and silver parade out onto the stage. They are in formation, and immediately begin their routine. Their skill as dancers and performers is impressive.
It's a different show than the last time Kim was here, but many of the moves and elements in it are familiar. The show is as timeless and iconic as the drag club itself; an unapologetic celebration, full of life and joy. Mercy's has been such a important place in Revachol for so long because it is the city's beating heart- whether the hetero-sexuals know it or not.The sight brings up some deep rooted anguish in him that the lieutenant can't quite explain. The joy radiating from the stage feels out of place as they stand here, interviewing a soldier about a murder. It's as if the people here don't know there's a war going on right outside the front doors.
It has always been this way.

That's where the appeal lies.

Escapism. For the homo-sexual, the communard, the anarchist, and when the bombs finally fall, for every Vacholiere.

That's why it was so important that the sign was repaired, back in '08.
"We should go," the lieutenant says to his partner, shaking himself from his thoughts."And miss the floor show?" Jean asks. "After driving all the way down here?"
He and Harry have more in common than I thought.
  The three officers are packed into Kim's motor carriage as they come up the hill to the power plant. The lieutenant feels a little out of sorts from a rough night, but he is used to operating on very little sleep. Especially these days, when his mind keeps him up even when his work doesn't."Who's doing the snooping?" Harry asks. He's trying to lean forward in his seat to speak with Kim more easily, but the seat belt is holding him back."Whoever gets a chance to," he replies, "but preferably me or Jean. You'll be better at running distraction."
He can be very loud.
His partner doesn't take offense to the implication. If anything, his eyes gleam with some excitement. "Right," he says. "I can do that, I won't let you down.""Good," Kim nods as he parks the carriage. The plant is much busier during the day than it was when he and Harry last visited, in the wee hours of the morning. The yard out front is full of vehicles and horses belonging to various employees, and there are people coming and going through the front doors. A couple of workers are smoking outside when they arrive.
The men greet them with polite nods and a familiar kind of wide-eyed look. Civilians are often like this; curious and cautious about what brings the RCM to their corner of the city.
Of course, in this case, they all know why they are here.This time a secretary is seated at the little desk to the right of the doors when they enter. An INSURCOM soldier is standing guard at the opening to the main hallway, nearby to her.
Harry strides right up to the desk and flashes his badge. "Harry Du Bois, RCM," he announces, trying to make the movement quick and cool, like he's Dick Mullen.
"These are lieutenants Kitsuragi and Vicquemare. Do you mind if we look around?"The woman looks up from her work. "Oh. You must be here about Jeoseph," she says, sounding slightly pained as she says the name. "My manager said you might come back a few times."
The young woman glances at the armed guard and taps her pencil nervously. "Is there anything you need from me?""If we have questions, we'll come ask you," Kim assures her. "But we know where we need to go."She nods and then motions to the hallway. "Please, go ahead. I'll be here until 12:00, and then I go to lunch, but if you any questions for me I'll just be in the break room." Jean hangs back a little as the other two start toward the hallway. The lieutenant can just hear him as he leans to ask the secretary something.
"Which office has the service records? The amount of power being used by different addresses?"
He wants hard numbers on just how much juice the military is pulling.
He sees the INSURCOM guard eying Jean suspiciously. Kim glances at her uniform.
No rank insignia.

A low ranking soldier.
Their suspect is a male corporal, but he can't rule out the possibility that she will report this to him, or perhaps to the sergeant who must oversee both of them."We supply thousands of addresses," the secretary says. "All of that is kept in our filament memory," she gestures toward the radiocomputer next to her. Underneath it is a refrigerator, presumably containing the filaments, keeping them cold."No paper copies?" He asks."Well, there are in the file room, but you would be in there all day looking. It's much easier if I can look up the records for you. Do you have a particular address you want me to look up?" She is eager to help.Jean glances toward where his partners are waiting, and the soldier, and then looks back. "How about I call you when I have the addresses in front of me?" He suggests."Of course. Someone will be able to help you, if you call the main number," she assures him.The other lieutenant rejoins them, and they continue down the hall toward the turbine room. Another soldier is standing there, not directly outside the room they want, but in close view of it.Harry takes half a step toward him, ready to cause a distraction, but Kim grabs his elbow. "Lets take a second look at the turbine first," he says.
Better to re-examine everything we can, before making a big scene.
His partner nods, letting him pull him gently to the door. The turbine in question is running again, but a smear of color in the motion blur of the blades shows that it has been stained by the viscera. Maybe permanently.Jean looks around the walkway, and then grabs the railing to gently shake it. He read the reports, but now he can get a feel for the crime scene in person.
"This is a tall rail," he remarks. "Are we sure he was pushed?" He has to raise his voice over the sound of the turbines."We're not sure of anything," Kim answers, "but it seems unlikely that he could just fall."Harry looks at the railing, and then looks to his two partners.
"How tall was Muñoz?"Kim flips through his notes. There is no height estimate from the coroner, given the condition of the body.
"Just below average height," he replies, based on the interviews. He's still looking at the page, when he feels his boyfriend's large hands clap onto his shoulders."Stand here for me," the man steers him to stand right by the railing, in front of the murder turbine.He makes a little sound of surprise, and glances at his partner.Harry looks at him intently, and backs up several paces, motioning for Jean to follow.
He's using me as a prop, to help him visualize the scene.
Over their shoulders, Kim can see that the INSURCOM guard has moved to stand outside the open door, watching them. The sound of the machines drowns out whatever his partners are saying, but, he can see Harry measuring the height of the railing in perspective with his hand.
He opens his notebook and flicks through it, mostly just to escape the strange feeling of them staring at him. A tap on his shoulder makes him jump, startling him more than it should. He looks up and finds himself nose to nose with Harry once again.
"I could totally push you over the edge," he announces proudly.Kim raises a brow. He trusts his boyfriend and feels no threat, but he doesn't appreciate the words.
"What an odd thing to say, Officer," he remarks with a frown.Harry shakes his head, "No, I mean- Muñoz, he was about your height, right? Vic doesn't think he could get enough clearance to push you off, but I definitely could. So our suspect must be close to my height. 180 or taller.""Ah." He is still frowning a little bit.
"Next time I think I will pass on the chance to model for you," he adds, taking his glasses off to wipe the lenses. He feels the yfreitor pat his shoulder. "We need to find out if the corporal is close to Harry's height," Jean supplies, "confirm him as our lead suspect."He nods in agreement. "And we still need a chance to poke around downstairs," he reminds them. Kim glances at the guard again, from just the side of his eyes. "I think it's time," he adds. Harry looks between them and then says, "Kim is the fastest one, he should go down the ladder. Jean- with me."The lieutenant nods as Harry grabs their partner's arm and pulls him off toward the guard.
He watches for his opening.At the end of the catwalk, he sees Harry approach the soldier and begin talking. Kim can't hear what's being said, but he can see the man getting a little agitated pretty quickly.
Harry is gesturing. He recognizes his hand motions from some of the man's more passionate rants- usually about capitalism, but occasionally about the quality of kebabs.He was kind of prepared for that. What he isn't prepared to see is his boyfriend physically shoving the armed guard right out of view of the door.
This is your opening. Go now.
His feet are rooted to the floor. 
Harry yells, rushing past him, toward the soldier who fired on the civilian. He doesn't react when the man's rifle is turned toward him. His face is red, yelling at the man that he is a murderer. His hands outstretched like he's going to strangle the guy to death.

There's the sound of a second gunshot.
 Kim feels faint as he watches Jean wrap his arms around the detective, physically holding him back. The image playing out in front of him mingles with the memory of his nightmare, one bleeding into the other. He can't even hear the turbines anymore, only the beating of his own heart in his ears.
Go! They are both well trained officers, they will be fine.

Go. You are wasting time.
He takes a step forward, wanting to intervene, before his reason comes back to him.
Kim forces himself to turn the other direction and runs for the ladder, scrambling down it as quickly as he can. When he reaches the bottom, his anxiety turns to fuming anger.
Of the all the stupid, short-sighted, dangerous moves he could have pulled...
He draws a breath and tries to focus his mind, heading around the side of the turbines. There’s a job to do. The back of the turbines is a space that feels outside of time. There is a thin walkway leading over the cables that run from each machine to the opposite wall. They are thick enough to hold up suspension bridges.
Each of the bundles of cables thread into a port in the wall, presumably leading to whatever mechanism they use to store the power. This is clearly not somewhere that people are meant to be often. The walkway is well clear, but the space still feels claustrophobic because of the sheer size of the mechanics around him.The white noise drowns out his foot steps as he moves down the line, looking for anything out of place. He's not even sure what he might be looking for, yet.
The hardware is of mixed age, with some cables looking quite old and worn, and others looking nearly brand new. He knows very little about this kind of machinery, though. The rudimentary knowledge of mechanics and engineering he has from tinkering with his motor carriage doesn't help him with something like this.Kim hurries down the line of turbines, nearly to the end of the walkway, but doesn't see anything of interest. He is about to give up when he notices that the port in the wall for one of the sets of cables looks weak, and cracked around the outside.
This building is made of concrete, and it's not exactly in poor repair.
The building is older, sure, but not so old that it should be literally falling apart.
He wants to investigate closer, but he's wary of the amount of electricity running through the cables.
A shock from this, and you are never coming back.
The lieutenant looks to the turbine that it is attached to. The massive machine has an individual override switch, a massive lever that will take both hands to throw, and will turn it off... but if he flips that switch, someone will come looking for the problem.
He decides against inviting more eyes on himself, and instead he carefully steps closer to the port in the wall, setting one foot off the walkway and next to the giant cable.
I've repaired the Kineema in tight spots without unhooking the battery. I'll just be careful.

Very careful.
 
There's a glove.
There on the ground, almost entirely underneath the walkway, is a rough, heavy leather glove in a natural tan color. It reminds him a little of the types of gloves he wears when working on his carriage.He reaches down and carefully fishes it out from the under the grate, putting it on. It's a little large on his slender hands, but he feels better about messing around with electrical cables when he has something to protect him. Slowly, he reaches out toward the cables, holding his breath. His hand hovered there a moment as he prepares himself, before he finally touches it.There is no shock. Satisfied he is somewhat safe, he tugs some of the wiring out of the port in the wall. It takes more strength than he expected to shift them.
After pulling out some of cable, he finally sees something he recognizes: an electrical splitter. It's massive in size of course, much larger than anything he has ever used, but the basic form and function is still the same.
It looks fairly new, in comparison to the cable feeding into it, and so do the heavy wires that lead from one side of it.
Is this part of their standard operation? Those cables could go anywhere.
Kim looks around as much as he can, to make sure no one is coming. He won't have a hope of hearing anyone as they approach. The coast seems clear, so he steps over the cables to investigate the next port.
This one looks undamaged, but he does the same thing. Using his gloved hand, pulls the slack from the port. He pulls out almost 30 centimeters of cable, but there is no splitter in sight.He steps back up to the walkway and moves down a little ways.
No splitter. But the next one does have one. It also looks new, and of the same brand.
He looks at his watch. He's been here nearly 10 minutes.
Time to go.
Kim takes off the glove and shoves it in his pocket, hurrying to the ladder that leads up to the main catwalk, scanning it to see if anyone is up there. He doesn't see anyone, but, the visibility isn't great. At the top of the ladder, he looks over toward the open door. There are two figures walking toward him, but they are not his partners. They are the two INSURCOM soldiers they passed earlier in the hall.
Where are Jean and Harry?
He swallows his anxiety, and just finishes climbing onto the catwalk proper. He dusts off his clothes, more to collect himself than to wipe away any dirt.
Just act like you belong, Kitsuragi.
The woman is holding her rifle in her hands now, although she is not aiming it at him.
He resolves to not let it intimidate him."You there! That area is restricted!" The man next to her shouts over the sound of the generators.
That's the one Harry was harassing.

Where the fuck are they?

Keep it together.
"What?" He calls over the generator. "Sorry, I can't hear you over the noise!"
In his pocket, Kim's hand has formed a tight fist around the leather glove, taking out some of his anxiety on it. He squares up his shoulders, draws himself to his full height, and walks toward them.
I am the RCM. They are a foreign body. They have to answer to me.
 His eyes scan every inch of the man that he can see, being meticulous in the detail he is trying to capture.
No specks of blood. No signs of bruises. No blowback from gunpowder.

No sign of a serious physical struggle.

And if there's one thing I know about Harry, it's that he would go down fighting.
They don't try to speak again until they are close- meeting him about a quarter of the way from the ladder to the door.
"I said: that area is off limits!" The woman says again."Oh, is it?" Kim asks over the generator noise, playing dumb. "Well, I'm all done anyway."The look on the soldier's face is inscrutable.He walks right past her with false confidence, striding toward the door, and is relieved when she doesn't try to stop him.
The question of what happened to Harry and Jean is on his tongue, but talking to them further seems like a poor decision. At least he can feel slightly more sure that wherever they are, they are okay.Outside the door in the main hall, he turns his head and looks toward the break room. It's possible his partners are waiting for him in there, but he opts to go check the carriage first.
Sure enough, he finds them waiting outside the lobby doors. They are huddled around the ashtray, where the employees were standing when the three of them pulled up. Jean is smoking an Astra, and he and Harry and talking in low, muddled voices.Relief floods him. His brain feels momentarily disconnected, but in a good way. His hands and feet tingle, his chest feels warm. He feels almost drunk from the rush of it.
"Thank the Innocence," he sighs, adjusting his glasses. "Do you want to explain what the hell happened?" His anger leaks through more than he really intends it to, now that he knows his friends are safe.Harry glances at Kim, grinning. The smile is tempered a little by the lieutenant's anger, but he's still all too proud of himself.
"We got kicked out," he says."Well, yes, Officer, that part is clear," he says with folded arms. He taps his foot, frowning deeply."He started raving at the soldier like a communard lunatic," Jean supplies, since Harry is choosing not to elaborate any further. He exhales a plume of smoke.Kim rubs his temples in exasperation.
This man is shaving years off my life.
"You're lucky you weren't hurt," he scolds."Aw, relax Kim," Harry says. "They're not going to gun me down in the middle of a hallway. We're RCM."His face contorts into a scowl that he can't quite hide as he remembers his dream again.
"Just get in the kineema," he snaps. He turns in that direction, pulling the heavy glove from his pocket as he looks for his key.Now that he is out in the bright sunlight, he can see the name "Muñoz" written in faded ink, just on the inside of the cuff.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

"Well, if they don't use splitters, and we found them, that implies power theft," Jean is saying as Harry steps back into their office.He hands each of his partners a cup of black coffee. His own his tea.Kim nods gravely, "It's no wonder there have been blackouts," he says. "We haven't learned anything new, but we have confirmed our suspicions. I am counting that as a victory.""What a mess," Vicquemare accepts his coffee without a thank you, and takes a deep drink of it."It's at least less confusing than the somafil epidemic," Harry offers, sipping his tea as he sits down.Investigations for that were taken away from them weeks ago, but Pryce tasked the civilian cells of Le Retour with spreading the word about the risks of stimulants right now. As far as the RCM can determine, deaths are down, although the situation is still bad."We still have a big problem," Kim sighs, leaning against his desk where he stands. "We have nothing to tie our suspect to the scene, and no leads. If we're going to haul the corporal in for questioning, we need a solid case against him, and we don't have one."Harry nods in thought. "We need motive," he says. "We have an eye witness account putting him at the scene within minutes of the murder, so he definitely had opportunity. If he's the right height to have pushed Muñoz off the railing, then we have means.""We have motive," Jean counters. "He wanted to protect the illegal splitters they installed."The detective shakes his head. "That's not enough. We need the reason why they installed those splitters in the first place, if we're going to prove it was even them that did it." Kim nods. It's with trepidation that he says, "We need to get inside that base in the Pox, and actually see what they're doing in there. We can't prove the splitters are motive for murder if we don't.""Okay, sure," Jean says, "but no way in hell they're going to let us in there. Even if they did, the only reason they would let us haul that corporal in for questioning, is if they want to throw him to the wolves." He kicks his feet up on his desk."Don't we have enough to bring him in on our own?" Harry asks. "There are three of us, surely we can get a confession out of him?"The lieutenant shakes his head, brow furrowed. "Maybe," he says, "but it's a big gamble. If that falls flat, we won't have any evidence and we probably won't be able to bring him in again. The military will transfer him, make it go away.""Face it, kids. They're going to get away with this one," Jean says sourly.
Oh no they aren't.
"Unacceptable," Kim echoes Harry's sentiment immediately. "We have to try. Our best case will require getting into that base, but if we're going to try that, we need special MoralIntern authority.""Remember the health and safety PSAs?" Harry says, "That's going to take forever, if they even come through with it.""They will definitely say no," Jean snorts.Kim folds his arms. "What other options do we have? The crime scene has already been stripped by Processing, and there was nothing except a single glove behind those turbines. There is nothing to tie any soldier to the scene of the crime, let alone a specific man." He has a deep frown."Our case is too weak. Even if we brought him in, we couldn't get a confession out of him with this." "But he did it!" Harry insists. "We all know it!""Well... if you don't want to go to Pryce, we could just break into an INSURCOM base," the lieutenant nods gravely, in clear sarcasm. "Be realistic. This is the only move we have.""And who is going to butter up the captain for that?" Vicquemare asks. "Kisturagi, it should be you. I'm too cranky, and Harry is too unstable.""Hey!" Harry scoffs. He can't quite bring himself to refute him, though.
Its just playful, macho ribbing, anyway.
"I think there's a good chance he'll agree," the detective goes on, "no buttering necessary. Getting us into that base will have other advantages, you know?"They haven't heard any word on radiocomputer intel yet, but a set of ICM agents getting into an enemy base to physically see what they're doing will be even better.
This is the opportunity he was waiting for, when he told you to keep investigating.
"Lets all go in together, then," Kim puts his weight properly onto his feet, and sets his coffee down. "If he does need a little persuasion, we can lean on him. Three against one."
That's more insubordination than you'd expect from Lieutenant Kitsuragi.

It's things like this which convince you that he's a little more rebellious than he wants you to think.
 Harry and Jean both get up, following the lieutenant across the crowded bullpen. Pryce is already in a meeting, and so they are left standing outside of it for several minutes, until eventually, McCoy and another officer step out.The three of them file into the office, where the slightly surprised looking captain is sitting at his desk. He clearly hadn't expected all of them at once.
The three of you haven't been in here together since Vicquemare's promotion.
"Can I help you?" Pryce asks, motioning for Jean to pull the office door closed.Kim clears his throat and then opens his notebook, wanting to have his evidence at the ready. "Thank you for seeing us, sir," he replies. "We're here about Électricité Jamrock.""All three of you?" The captain's face is hard to read, but Harry can guess he's nervous that this might be "after hours" business.
He doesn't want anything to do with Le Retour discussed at the office.
"We need to investigate the INSURCOM base on the edges of the Pox," Harry explains, cutting right to the heart of it.His boss's eyebrows shoot up. "Tell me I just heard you wrong, Du Bois," he says.
Oh shit, maybe this isn't as done of a deal as you thought.
"You heard 'im," Jean rumbles from the back. He's always prefers to get to the point of things. "The crime scene is clean. We have a suspect, but nothing to tie him to it.""Then get something to tie him to the scene. That is your job," Pryce pushes back. He doesn't sound amused. Harry sits down in the chair across from his desk, and then leans his elbows on it, so they are eye to eye. "No, you don't understand," he says. "Processing already came in to clean up and pulled everything out of the turbine, but it's only the victim's belongings. And none of our investigations have turned up any evidence that someone else was on the scene.""So why haven't you declared it an accident and closed the case?" The captain asks. He expects a good reason."We have a credible eye-witness report putting a corporal from INSURCOM at the scene within 10 minutes of the body being discovered," Kim explains, standing just behind him."Right," Jean is agreeing, "and the place looked pretty damn difficult to have an accident at," he adds. "The railing is good, and you can't really slip and fall right there.""And Processing didn't find any evidence of drugs in the... body..." Harry adds.
"Body" is a pretty generous term.
Pryce nods along, "So you have ruled out an accident and you have a potential suspect, but no evidence of another person at the scene?"They all nod."I discovered illegal tampering with the turbines," Kim goes on. "Between that, the fact that INSURCOM openly admits to buying excess electricity, and the rolling blackouts we've been experiencing-""The short of it is, Captain, if we get into that base, we can prove whatever they're doing with all that power is a motive for murder," Jean cuts the lieutenant off. Pryce looks at them all, his face stony, but a little incredulous."So... you three want me to authorize entry into an INSURCOM base, on the record. So that you can spy on military secrets, to use them as evidence to arrest one of their officers for murder?"
Oh it sounds ridiculous when he says it like that.
Harry feels a lump in his throat. He reaches up and adjusts his colorful tie."Um... yes?" He shoots him a pair of finger guns, trying to force a charming smile."Do you hear yourself, Du Bois? No! Absolutely not!"He looks over at Kim. "And you too? You're supposed to be the sensible one."Kim's ears tint slightly red, and he squirms under his scrutiny.
He holds Pryce's opinion in very high regard. He wants to impress him.
"I agree that it is risky," the lieutenant says, trying to keep himself on good ground with the captain while still standing by his partners, "but I also think that it's the only route to pressing charges. We just don't have the evidence without it, and we're not going to find it."Pryce frowns and drums his fingers on the desk, weighing up the risk, the implication for Le Retour, and his own sense of justice."Then we let the case go cold," he says at last. "If you think there's anything you've missed, go ahead and try to build something. But if you're truly out of leads, then you should move on."Harry's jaw falls open."What the hell?" The question comes out of his mouth without his brain getting to weigh in on it first.
That's unfair to the victim's family.

It's also a hard loss to take for Le Retour. You'd be giving up your opportunity to investigate your enemies.
The captain shakes his head. "We can't strike at that base, do you understand me?" He isn't really asking. "So if you can't find another lead, then that's it.""That's it?" He scowls. "We just let it go?"Somewhere behind him, he hears the office door opening. The meeting has come to an end.Kim's hand comes down on his shoulder, firm but gentle."Come on, Detective," he says, "Lets go see if there's anything we've overlooked.""No! This isn't fair. The victim deserves more than this from the RCM!" He gets to his feet. There's a bubbling anger inside him that he can't quite tame."Du Bois," Pryce says in a warning tone. "I've made my decision. I'm not going to change my mind. Use this energy to try to finish your case with what you have, instead of yelling about it.""Unbelievable!" He throws his hands up. He feels someone grip the back of his jacket and pull him backwards."Come on, Harry," Jean is saying in a low growl, tugging him out of the room.Kim follows them and shuts the office door on their way out. "I can't fucking believe this!" Harry protests as they make their way back to their own office. He's just kind of venting now."This place used to stand for something.""It doesn't sit well with me either," Kim admits with a little frown, "but the captain made a good point. There is more at stake than a single case."
He doesn't like the thought that a killer will get away with it, but he agrees with Pryce's decision.
Harry walks ahead of his partners and collapses in his office chair, fuming. The rage he feels has no outlet.
First they poison the people.

Then they lock down Revachol's streets.

And then they murder a public servant, for just being in the wrong place, trying to do the right thing.

They deserve to pay.
He tugs on his hair, his breath kind of hard from his anger. He doesn't acknowledge when his partners come in, a few seconds behind him. He can hear Kim's footsteps behind him, and then he feels a comforting touch on his shoulder again."Are you okay?" The lieutenant asks gently. "You seem very angry over this."He looks up at his boyfriend, and then takes a deep breath, wrestling control over his feelings. He still vividly remembers when the man told him that he can be frightening, when he is worked up and yelling."It's just not fair," he says in a slightly more even tone. "They just get to walk all over us- all of us! Everything that's happened, we haven't been able to stop it. And now we can't even get justice for this one guy. Our own captain won't back us up."Kim pats his arm. "You know why he said no," he says, trying to soothe him."I am frustrated too, but, it does make sense for us to not poke at that bear."There's a little pause, in which Harry doesn't acknowledge what he said, and so he continues, "This is how a war is won, unfortunately. Sacrifices have to be made."
He's not wrong.

But what about Jeoseph?
"Yeah," he sighs, feeling a little defeated. "Yeah... I guess. I just wish we could do more for the guy." He sets his hand on top of Kim's, where it rests on his arm."Me too, partner," Jean says from his own desk. "Always feels like shit to have the boss shoot you down."The lieutenant gives his hand a little comforting squeeze, and then steps away."I think I am going home," he announces. "It's nearly the end of the day anyway, and this has been a troubling development. Maybe a good night's sleep will help us see what we've overlooked."
Assuming either of you can even get a good night's sleep.
He nods and says nothing, still staring at the top of his desk in thought.
You should just go anyway, like Kim suggested.

He was being sarcastic. He doesn't think it's a good idea.

Because it will probably get you shot.

Vigilante justice. Be a Bad Boy Cop, outside the law.

Dick Mullen would go.
 "Do you want to come with me, Harry? Stay at my place for a few days?"The question gets him to look up, and turn around to his boyfriend in surprise. Usually, even in front of Jean, Kim will not refer to the two of them staying together. He always says something about giving him a 'ride home,' or otherwise dances around the matter.The fact that he's being asked so plainly in front of their partner warms his chest. It helps to soothe his frazzled feelings. He almost says yes, but... he's not quite ready to throw in the towel."I'd love to," he says, "but I think I want to stay awhile and go over everything one more time."He sees a shadow cross Kim's face, just for a fraction of a second.
Disappointment.

It's not like you to say no to something like this.
"How about I take the tram to your place when I'm all done here?" He suggests, throwing him a bone. It's not like he doesn't want to stay with him. Of course he does.The lieutenant pulls on his jacket. "Very well," he says, fishing his keys from his pocket. "I'll see you tonight then? Don't be out too late."He smiles a little. "I won't," he promises."Just kiss him goodbye already," Jean rolls his eyes.Kim's ears go bright red and clears his throat, immediately making his way to leave the office."Goodnight," he says to both of them, vanishing out the door.
Prick.

Now he's never going to work up to actually kissing you goodbye.
 Harry glares at Vicquemare as his boyfriend leaves the office."Jean!" He hisses. "Don't do that! He's shy," he scolds him quietly."Naw, he just needs a little push sometimes," Jean counters.The detective groans. "I'm lucky he even asked me to his place in front of you," he says."He needs to loosen up," his best friend doesn't sound that sorry. "It's not like I don't know you two are shacked up together.""Yeah," Harry admits, "he does. But you're not helping, okay?""Fine, fine," Jean starts to look over the case notes again. A silence falls between them as they both work. They comb through interview notes, compare things, try to piece together any avenue they can take, but nothing is coming up. The case is going to go cold if they can't get something strong enough to force the truth out of that corporal.
You know what you need to do.
"Jean?" Harry says, glancing up at the clock.20:00. Most people are gone for the day. If he's going to make it before curfew, he needs to leave.
Kim is expecting you home soon, too.

He doesn't sleep as well without you.
"Mm?" His partner doesn't look up from his desk."We should just go anyway," he says it quietly, making sure they won't be overheard by any officers working the swing shift. "Don't you think?"Jean looks up at him, and then lets out a barking, incredulous laugh."You're fuckin' crazy," he says.
That wasn't a 'no.'
"C'mon," Harry presses. "We both know that's the only way this is getting anywhere. We'll kill time until around 02:00, go about then. Quick and quiet."He can see Kim's angry frown in his mind's eye, but he pushes the image away."Didn't your boyfriend tell you not to be out too late?" The man leans back and strikes up a cigarette.
A telltale sign that he's nervous, but not angry.

He's actually considering it.
"I'll call him and tell him I'm putting in an all-nighter," Harry shrugs with one shoulder.
Not technically a lie.
"This is a terrible idea, Mullen." Jean puffs on his red-tipped Astra.
More like an awesome idea.
"Yeah," he concedes. "It probably is... but are you okay leaving it like this? Because I'm not. I don't want to close the case without knowing we did everything we could."His partner is quiet as he thinks about it. The smoke slowly fills up the room, until Harry can't stand it anymore, and he scoots his chair closer so he can beg a puff off of him.As Jean hands it over, he exhales and says. "Alright. I'm in."  Harry climbs into the window of the dark, ruined building, and tries to get his bearings. He's in some kind of classroom- this must have been the neighborhood school.He closes his eyes for a moment, and tries to remember if he ever went to school here. He knows he was born in the Old Military Hospital, near this neighborhood. Maybe he grew up here, before the measles outbreak?He's still concentrating on that possibility when he hears Jean climbing in through the window behind him. It pulls him out of his thoughts, and he walks over to help him down. It's a further drop down than it was to reach the window from the outside."Where are we?" Jean doesn't whisper- whispers are harsh, they travel far. Instead he speaks, but with a very quiet tone."Inside," the detective says, unhelpfully."Smartass."He reaches into his pocket and produces his lighter, using the small flame to try to get a look around. They talked about a flashlight, but decided that much light would draw attention.The classroom seems to be used for storage- INSURCOM has shoved all the desks to one end of the room, and the area closer to the door is stacked up with wooden crates.One of them has been opened, and so Harry pulls the lid up, just enough to see what's inside. Gleaming white porcelain armor.
Every soldier you've seen has been just in plain uniform. Or had very basic armor.

They are prepared for more intense violence.

The new ICM could really use this stuff.
 There's no way for him to steal an entire crate of armor, so he has to move on.Harry turns toward the door, which is standing slightly ajar. There's a soft glow of light from the hallway beyond, somewhere much deeper in the building.
For a place that is siphoning off enough power to black out huge chunks of the city, it sure is dark.

It's going to something much more important than lights.
"Can you see a damn thing?" Jean asks in his ear.Harry looks over his shoulder. "Shh!" He says sharply, afraid that talking will give them away. He peeks out a little further into the hall.
This is the most foolish thing you've ever done.
He tries to ignore his own thoughts as he moves down the hallway, toward the direction of the light. The next few rooms appear to be disused, or like the one they entered through, used only for storage.Finally they round a corner and see a larger lobby-like area. A small construction light is illuminating the main doors to the school, which are slightly open. Beyond them he can see the glow of a few more lights outside. Two guards are standing inside the doors, next to one another, having a quiet conversation.
Relaxed voices.

Passing the time on a boring shift.
 A large, thick bundle of cables has been run through the front doors. It comes in through the lobby, and then heads off down the hall across from Harry and Jean. They will need to get across to it without being seen."Maybe we should go back out, and try to re-enter at the other end?" Vicquemare suggests.One of the guards looks up, and Harry ducks back around the corner and flattens himself against the wall, blood pounding in his ears.
This guy is going to get you killed.
He glares at his partner, and then just shakes his head no. They already scouted out the building and chose their best entry point. Going back out won't make it less likely that they'll be caught.If anything, it might be more dangerous, because guards on the outside will be more alert. Harry peeks around the corner again after a minute. The two guards at the end are still talking. He can't hear what they're saying, but it doesn't seem like either of them were alarmed, if they heard Jean at all.
The construction light is pointed away from you, illuminating the front doors.

You have some cover in the darkness, their eyes won't be able to see you behind the glare.

So just be very quiet.
He motions for Jean to follow him and then begins to creep across the lobby, as far back from the light as he can get. His steps are nearly silent.Even knowing that they can't see him, his heart nearly leaps right out of his mouth when one of the soldiers happens to glance in his direction.He freezes and waits.Nothing.The man wasn't really looking, he just happened to glance that way in the course of conversation.His heart continues to race, but he swallows and tries to ignore it as he presses on.The path the huge cables lead down is slightly more lit than where they came from. The building itself still has no power, but some kind of light has been set up inside the bathrooms, and is pouring out from them into the hallway.
This is where people are more likely to walk around.
 He doesn't see an alternate route. There are stairs to his right going up, but he has no idea what to expect to up there. The upper floor may also be crawling with soldiers, or may be unsafe because the building is a ruin. Not to mention that it might not get them any closer to their goal at all.Trepidation builds in his stomach as he moves slowly toward the light.Each step feels like it might be his last, but bit by bit he makes his way down the hall.Even breathing feels risky.The two of them get near the bathroom, and he stops. He can hear running water from inside. Harry looks around for cover, but he isn't sure where to go.He feels a tap on his shoulder."Keep moving," Vic hisses as quietly as possible.
This was a mistake.

It's too late, you're in it now. You have to finish the job.
He moves quickly past the open doorway, trying to retreat into the darkness on the other side. Before they can get out of sight, however, footsteps can be heard from the bathroom, about to emerge.Harry looks around again for someplace quick to hide. He sees his partner climb into one of the disused lockers lining the hall, but there's no way he is going to fit in one of those. With no other option, he opens the nearest classroom door, and ducks inside, just in time to hear the footsteps stepping out into the hall.He sees the shadow of someone pass by his door through the window, and then hears them open the next classroom over.He holds his breath, listening hard to try to be sure it's all clear. There is the sound of people breathing. 
You have stepped right into one of their barracks.
The detective doesn't dare turn around, his heart pounding so hard in his chest that he feels a little weak.He stands there for what feels like minutes, petrified. The sounds around him don't change, though, and he can't hear footsteps anymore, and so finally he carefully opens the classroom door again and squeezes out. He closes it most of the way behind him, but leaves it unlatched, afraid that the sound of it shutting properly will wake a sleeping soldier.At least with the soft light of the bathroom, he can kind of see. No one is in the hall, though.He looks at the line of lockers, trying to remember which one his partner went into.He opens one. Nothing."Jean?" He speaks as quietly as possible. "It's clear now." He almost can't hear himself, but he doesn't dare whisper any louder.A locker to his left opens slowly, and his partner climbs out of it. He looks stiff and has to kind of wiggle to extricate himself from it.
He must have been wedged tightly inside.
"Let's get this over with," he grumbles quietly, rubbing his shoulder. The regret he is feeling is apparent in his voice.
He also knows this was a terrible mistake.
 It feels like they're moving down that dimly lit hallway forever.About halfway down, they can see the door that the cables are leading into, standing slightly open out of necessity. A dim blue light is emanating from somewhere beyond.There seems to be no sign of life, and so Harry makes his way there as quickly as he can while still being quiet, and pulls the door open the rest of the way.It's some kind of laboratory.When the school was in use, it was likely the physics or chemistry lab, but now it has been repurposed by INSURCOM for something else. The cables are all going toward the center of the room, but all Harry can see are large, vague, lumpy shadows in that direction.He waves for his partner to follow him inside, and the two of them close the door as much as the cables will allow them.Jean lights his lighter again, once they are slightly more obscured.The detective sticks near him, trying to see whatever he can in the weak light from it. The room is a mess, with wires and cables crisscrossing everywhere. They seem to be feeding various machines in the middle of the room. Large, complicated looking things that he doesn't recognize. The old blackboard is covered with equations.His partner is looking around with a furrowed brow.
He doesn't understand what the purpose of this room is.
Harry steps closer to the blackboard to look at the maths. They make no sense to him, some of the equations look like they're trying to model impossible things. Many of them use variables he doesn't know the meaning of.He squints at them. There's a sense of familiarity in the back of his mind, but, he cannot quite grasp it. Nothing comes to him.Eventually he has to turn away.When he does, he sees his partner at the main desk; the one that the teacher would have used when this was still a school. It's covered with many papers, which Jean is combing through.On the desk is a shortwave radio, modified in an oddly familiar way. 
The woman with red hair looks at her destroyed Pale Latitude Compressor, and then to the two policemen who are no longer contained by it.She lifts the gun and puts the end of it in her mouth.

"Wait!" Harry reaches out with one hand "No! You don't have to-"

The sound of the shot makes the ruined building rumble around them a little bit, and he sees the gory aftermath, splattered across the wall behind her.Emotions wash over him all at once. Blankness, anger, horrific abject misery.

"That it," he says, "I don't want to do this anymore."His partner assumes he means police work, but the reality is that he envies Ruby. She got to take the easy way out.
 The flashback hits him like a physical strike, but he tries to shake it off and focus on the present. "The ULAN frequency," he whispers.His memory still haunts him, in the back of his mind.
A way out, if you are left with no other hope.
Jean looks up. "What?""That radio. It's modified to reduce signal bleed," he says. "A way to talk to multiple locations at once, and make it harder for people to listen in."He walks over to it and turns the volume knob all the way down, before he switches it on. Slowly, he turns up the dial just enough to barely hear.At first he thinks it's just white noise, but then he hears snippets of sound. Random conversations, bits of music. It's all jumbled up together, on top of each other.
Did you hear something?

"The ULAN frequency"
The briefest snippet of a deep voice comes through the garbled nonsense, and the hairs on the back of Harry's neck stand up.
"That's your voice."

"Ew, is that really what your voice sounds like to other people?"
They are the thoughts he normally hears in his mind, but comingled with other random voices, both strange, and familiar. He thinks he hears Kim's voice through the static, and feels a stab of guilt. It is immediately washed away by the strains of an orchestra.
He's going to be so mad when he finds out you did this.
 He swallows, and then hits the button for one of the saved frequencies. Again, random numbers and sounds come through, but this time they are in short bursts followed by several seconds of static. Unlike the sounds when he first turned it on, these are measured. Deliberate. They do not overlap.
A number station. INSURCOM uses this technique to pass secret messages to each other.

You won't be able to decode it.
He pushes the next button, and the sound is much like the first channel. He can tell it's a new stream because it sounds weaker, more fuzzy. The signal is coming from further away, but it's a similar mess of noise, voices from the past, present, and maybe even the future. They start to sound like screams, when they all bleed together. He closes his eyes as he listens. In his mind's eye he can see a thin horizon. It is a blaze of light, a crescendo of all of time and existence. That's all these sounds really are; they are light, translated into sound through a complex series of calculations and electrical pulses. As each wave of light crashes into the antenna, it is heard, and then evaporates into the Pale. The hungry, all consuming beast, feasting on their pitiful, insignificant lives. He switches it off. "It's the porch collapse," he says with cold certainty.Next to him, Jean lets out a little snort of disbelief. "How do you know that?""You were listening, you heard what I heard, Vic," he says. "That was my voice in there. What else could do that?"He looks at the buttons on the radio. They are mostly marked with letters. "M, P, CC, F, GRIH."
The labels are most worn on the "M" and "F" buttons.
That sense of dread is building up inside him again as he takes another good, long look around the room. In amongst the various machines, one of them is kind of familiar.
How did you not see it before?

You wouldn't have noticed it at all if you hadn't had that flashback.
It looks almost like a film camera of sorts, positioned in front of a huge diaphragm. It's so much larger and more polished than the homemade one that he saw in Martinaise.He tugs on Jean's jacket and points. "See that? That's a Pale Latitude Compressor," he says with certainty. "I saw one in Martinaise too. I told you that signal came from the Pale."
This must be a "real" one, the kind actually used out there at the relay stations.

It's massive.

Why are they doing entroponetic research in the ruins of the Pox, and not in some fancy military lab somewhere?
He rubs his chest, feeling like he might vomit as his heart hammers in his ears.
Are you having another heart attack, old man? Pull yourself together.
He takes a few deep breaths and fights back the unexplainable feeling of doom. Whatever it is he's afraid of, it hasn't happened yet. They're not too late."Secret entroponetic research is definitely worth killing over," Jean says. "We should go. This is what we needed."In spite of his words, neither of them move. They just stand for a long moment, looking around the room, trying to figure out the implications of what they are seeing. Neither of them know for certain, but whatever it is, they can both feel its enormity.
IT'S NOT TOO LATE TO STOP THEM. THEY WILL LEVEL ALL OF ME. ALL OF ME.
 A blinding light consumes the room around him.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

"They did what?"
Kim feels almost as if he is falling. He can't feel his body anymore, except for the heat in his face, from the rage that is boiling up inside him.
I should have known.
The dream that woke him in the wee hours of the morning was confusing, muddled; a strange mix of things that happened in Martinaise, and things that never happened at all.
Now, its meaning seems clear.Across the desk from him, Pryce nods seriously. He looks more concerned than angry, for the moment.
"That answers my next question," the man says. "I was wondering if you were involved in the plan.""Absolutely not!" He protests firmly. He pulls his posture up to his full height and sets his face straight, maintaining his practiced composure. It can't quite disguise his desperate anger and worry.
"I was involved in the decision to ask you for MI support," he admits, "but you said no, and I would not disobey that order. I had no idea they were going to do this."
But it is my fault. I put the idea in his head.

I didn't think he would take it seriously.

I'm never letting that man out of my sight again.

And now who knows what they've been doing to him all night.
"Captain... are they okay?" he asks anxiously. "Do we know?"
He feels like he can't breathe at the thought of his partners, being kept as INSURCOM prisoners. It's one of the worst outcomes he could think of for the war. He tries to tell himself that this is different, because, technically the RCM is not an enemy of the Coalition. They aren't "prisoners" in that sense."The MI wouldn't have called me if they weren't prepared to negotiate a release."
That is absolutely not what I asked.

He's deflecting.
He doesn't dare ask again, afraid to hear the answer. He doesn't want his worst nightmare confirmed. At least he knows they will be coming home. He and Harry can deal with the aftermath once everyone is safe.
"So, how does that happen?""We don't have much to give them," the captain says. "Its going to come down to who takes the fall for this. I will tell them I authorized the operation." His throat feels dry. "Sir?"
There is a knot in his stomach for an entirely new reason now. He has always respected Pryce deeply, and one of the reasons why is that he has a reputation for taking care of the officers below him...
But this is unfair. He expressly forbade this move.
"There will be consequences," Pryce nods seriously, "but if I disavow Vicquemare and Du Bois, then the Coalition will assume they're rogue insurgents," he says. "If I ordered this operation, then they are just RCM officers doing their jobs."
This is a practical move, not a charitable one.

He needs them free, for Le Retour.
Kim can feel the cracks forming in his carefully maintained expression. The cop in him feels that being left to face the consequences of their own actions is the correct, deserved thing. The human in him fears mistreatment at the hands of the military. The romantic in him just wants his boyfriend to come home safe.
"What will happen to you?" He asks."Hard to say," Pryce leans back in his chair as he thinks. "I will likely be disciplined or sanctioned. I might be dismissed. If I go, McCoy will take over."He nods. It makes sense.
By rank, Harry should take over for Pryce, but if even he somehow doesn't get fired over this, he will certainly be put on leave while it blows over. There's just no other way for this to go.
What will C-wing look like, if I am the only one left to take up leadership?

Harry wouldn't handle being fired very well.

But they would be right to discharge him.

Benders can be swept under the rug, but the RCM cannot save face from something like this.
"How likely is it to come to all that?" Kim feels an intense craving for a cigarette.The captain shakes his head, unsure. Somehow he is still perfectly calm. "I don't really know," he says. "This is a major scandal, but, I reached out to a lawyer after I got the call, for some advice. We may be able to make it through this mostly intact. Time will tell."The lieutenant looks at the ground while that reality sinks in.
Pryce is a good man.
"McCoy is not a member of the social club," the man goes on, "so if I am removed as captain, you and Gottlieb will need to keep watch on things here for me."Kim looks back up at him. It's an enormous honor, a huge responsibility, and a terrifying weight. Everything about this situation is a lot to take in all at once. HIs pulse feels a little fast.
"Yes sir," he assures him. "You can count on me.""Good man," he nods. The phone rings, and Pryce answers it immediately. He was waiting for that call; someone from the Moralinern no doubt.
"Thomas, there you are," the man says. "Have you settled things?"
Pryce's family practically is the RCM. His father helped to found it. He won't be ousted.

But we are almost entirely controlled by the MI. If they want him to go, he goes.
"I don't want to waste time on this," the captain is saying emphatically. "Yes, I did. It's a murder investigation. Officers have the right to access any public property."Kim waits awkwardly. For a moment of heroic sacrifice, this is rather anticlimactic.
Life isn't like the films.
"No, that property doesn't belong to the Coalition, it belongs to Revachol. INSURCOM is, technically speaking, squatting there. They don't have the right to keep my men out."The lieutenant looks over at the office door, wondering if he should leave."Cut the bullshit Thomas. If you insist on making a case out of it, our counsel will back us up. I would send them in again, in a heartbeat. Now, can we come pick them up yet or not?"
There is another long pause as he listens to the man on the other end of the line. Finally he says, "Perfect, we're on our way." He hangs up the phone, and gets to his feet.
"Lieutenant, I hope you drove the Kineema in today," he comments. The journey over there feels like the longest drive he has ever taken.
A year ago, the idea of the famous Captain Pryce sitting behind him in his motor carriage would have left him a little star struck. Now that it's actually happening, he can't appreciate it. The weight of the situation just hangs over both of them, oppressive, impossible to ignore. Impossible to talk about.
I should say something.

What could I possibly say?

I just want him to respect me.

Appropriate decorum will earn his respect.

One of the only things he knows about me is that I'm dating one of the two clowns who are about to get him fired.
He opens his mouth to try to say something, but nothing comes to mind.
I hope my association with Harry doesn't sully his opinion of me.

It won't. In spite of everything, he still holds the detective in high regard.
 "So," Pryce says, finally breaking the unbearable silence, "what are you going to do to him?"Kim looks at him through one of the mirrors. "Excuse me?" He raises his brow a tiny bit, unable to really stop the reflex. The question wasn't one he was expecting.
Is he smirking?
"Well, if my partner ever did something like this, we would be having words," the captain's tone is almost playful, but still serious enough for the situation.The lieutenant's ears get a little warm. He's very aware that Pryce is using the term 'partner' in both senses of the word. He clears his throat.
"Oh, believe me," he says. "We will be having more than 'words' about this. I'm not sure I've ever been this angry with him.""Really?" Pryce asks with interest. "I would have thought you'd be a little relieved he hasn't fallen off the wagon again.""I suppose that's a fair point," he says with a sigh.
This anger is different from what he felt when Harry relapsed, and vanished for three days. That time, he'd been inconsolable, not sure if his partner was alive. His fury was mixed with grief and anguish.
This time it's a colder, drier sort of anger. He knows his lover is safe, and so he's left without the fear. Only fury really remains. He is gripping the steering lever so tightly that it will leave marks on his hands, he's sure of it.
"I was more personally affected when that happened, but, in some ways, this is worse. He and Vicquemare aren't trained for this kind of operation. He's done some foolish things before, but this is..." he grits his teeth, holding his breath a little bit.Behind him, his captain leans forward in the seat, just listening. He doesn't say anything. There another long beat of silence, before Kim finds himself speaking again.
"I mean, he's a 44 year old gym teacher with heart disease, not a fucking secret agent!" His voice gets louder, just by a little. "And Vicquemare- he gets so swept up by the man that he'll just go along with whatever he wants. I guarantee you this was Harry's idea."
He can feel his face starting to get flushed from anger, and his breath getting a little hard, now that he can't focus on controlling it.
"For a man so focused on his failures, he doesn't seem to let any of them talk him out of terrible decisions," he goes on. "I'm so scared that someday, his luck is going to run out. He acts like he's invincible, and I don't know if he thinks he actually is, or if he just doesn't care because maybe he's still sui-"He stops suddenly, not wanting to finish that word, and also realizing that he has just unloaded an inappropriate amount of emotion onto his boss. He clears his throat, red face for an entirely different reason now.
"I'm sorry, Captain. I don't know what came over me."He doesn't dare to look at the man in the mirror as he drives, but when Pryce speaks, he sounds almost amused. "It's okay, lieutenant. It sounds like you needed to tell someone."
Oh.

The man can-opened you.

Of course. Where else would Harry learn that from?
Kim is awed and annoyed by his skill, in equal parts. Pryce is a legend, well known for figuring out what his officers have a natural aptitude for, and then cultivating that. Still, he hadn't expected him to be able to crack his shell so easily.
All it took was a small handful of words to make the lieutenant spill his guts to him.
Maybe if you were still going to therapy, it wouldn't have been that easy for him to open you up.

A little release of pressure now and then would leave me more resilient.
 He stays silent as he is pulling up to the base, and parking the carriage. The barricade outside the INSURCOM base is a hundred meters or so away. Several armed guards are standing in front of it, keeping a close watch on them.
Kim switches the engine off, but makes no move to get out, not quite prepared to deal with whatever he is about to see. Now that Pryce has forced a little of his frustration out, the creeping fear that his lover has been harmed is coming back to him."Why did you do that?" He doesn't mean to ask it, it just kind of slips out."Because we don't know each other," Pryce answers simply and honestly. If he's surprised that Kim called him out on it, that part doesn't show.
He needs to know me, so he knows if he can trust me. Especially if I'm about to take over C-wing.

You can't be a good leader if you don't know your team.
"You're an interesting one," the man adds, "hard to get a read on. I appreciate you humoring me."
He didn't give me much of a choice.
Kim eyes the soldiers outside again, choosing to let his boss's manipulation go. They have bigger issues to handle right now.
"How are we doing this?" he asks him."I'll do all the talking," Pryce assures him. "A MoralIntern agent is already here. We won't have to do much aside from collect them."
He doesn't really need Kim's help, outside of transportation. Bringing him is more of a personal favor, considering how close he is to the men involved. The lieutenant finally climbs out of the motor carriage, and holds the door open for his boss to exit after him. He smooths out his jacket and trousers, trying to make sure he looks serious and put together, and then holds his head high and gives a curt nod. He's not at all prepared, but it's not going to get any better than this.A man in a tan suit with medium brown hair, and blue eyes, is standing next to the soldiers at the barricade. He stands out by quite a bit, not just because of his clothes, but because of his posture.
He doesn't hold himself like a soldier.

This must be Thomas.
Kim looks at the building while Pryce and the Moralintern stooge briefly shake hands.
It's an old mixed-ages school, which once had pupils ranging from about 6 years old to those about to enter university.
Why here?
The thought is fleeting.He's much more concerned to see his partners come out safely from whatever makeshift prison they've been held in. Spending a night here could not have been comfortable. The building is half ruined, and it seems likely that Harry and Jean were just tossed into any random, disused room, as a makeshift jail.They already know that neither of them are seriously wounded, but that doesn't mean there wasn't a scuffle. The thought of his lover bloodied up from a fight, thrown into the ruins of a classroom, possibly tied up and unable to really move... It makes his lungs physically hurt inside his chest. He can feel every breath as if it were a cold day in winter.
Seeing the soldiers now, the danger of the choice they made is so much harder to forget.
What the hell was he thinking?
 It's only a short wait before Thomas returns, with his partners behind him. Their hands are still cuffed.
Kim takes in the sight of them both. They look dirty, and tired. Harry looks like he hasn't slept well, but that's not a surprise. However, aside from Harry's slight limp, they seem to be perfectly fine. There are no signs of real struggle.
Maybe they had the good sense to surrender without a fight.
An INSURCOM soldier brings up the rear, carrying both of their firearms.Harry gives him an expression between a grimace and a smile.The lieutenant lets out a sigh of relief, but that sense of peace lasts only a fraction of a second before his anger rises to fill it. He tries to keep his expression neutral, but he knows he must looked flushed just by the look on his boyfriend's face.
He presses his lips together tightly, and opts to completely ignore him, choosing instead to look at the face of his watch. He doesn't even read the time.Both men have the presence of mind to look contrite as Pryce collects their weapons from the guard. They are uncuffed then, released to the captain's custody to punish them however he sees fit.
As soon as Harry's hands are free, he comes right over to Kim, rubbing his shoulder. "Hey," he says.
That's the shoulder he injured in Martinaise.

Having his arms held back that long must have hurt.
Kim looks back up at him. Harry seems to be waiting for some kind of greeting, or acknowledgement, but he still doesn't say anything. He doesn't entirely know what will come out of his mouth if he opens it."I'm sorry," the detective sounds sincere about that.
'Sorry' is the most hollow thing he could have said.

That apology is owed to Pryce more than me, anyway.

No, he does owe you an apology too, Kistruagi.

I don't want to hear it.
He just narrows his eyes at him, and then clears his throat. "I appreciate your help with this situation," Pryce is saying to Thomas. He doesn't sound that sincere about it. The two of them are discussing legal details."Kim?" Harry looks at him with his big grey-green eyes, brows drawn together in anxiety.He's torn between a desire to comfort him after what was probably a terrifying experience, and the pure anger he is feeling. Not wanting to deal with either thing, Kim turns on his heel and walks away from him without saying a word.Jean lets out a low whistle. "Looks like you're in the doghouse for awhile there, partner," he comments to Harry.
The lieutenant can't hear what he says in reply. What he does hear is the sound of his lover's footsteps, rushing up behind him."Kim, hey, wait," Harry's hand touches his shoulder.
He shrugs it off without turning around, not in the mood to let the man touch him."Kim... come on..."His tone is lung-wrenching, but the lieutenant does not allow himself to react.
What if they hurt him, Kistruragi?

He might have gone through a traumatic ordeal, and you're standing here refusing to even look at him.

He looks fine.

He brought this on himself.

You wouldn't say that if it was his addiction that caused him to disappear.

It's not the same thing.
 "Please, just say something," his boyfriend begs him as he unlocks the door to the Kineema.Kim finally looks at him again, his face still flushed. Closer now, he can see the bags under his eyes, but still no signs of a physical fight.
"Get in," he orders, holding the door open for him.Harry doesn't get in, but Jean, who is half a step behind him, does.
"Okay, I know you're really mad," he says, reaching out to try to touch his arm again. "That's fair... I really fucked up. But baby, I'm-"He narrows his eyes, and his look shuts the detective up immediately.
He never appreciates being called pet names when they are on the clock, and he appreciates even less in this moment.
Kim looks at the man's hand where it sits on his arm for a few seconds, and then meets Harry's eyes again. His face remains cold.His boyfriend retracts his touch quickly. "Okay," he says. "No touching. Got it." He stands there for another second or two hoping for a response, before getting the message that Kim really isn't going to say anything else.
Finally, he climbs into the Kineema after Vicquemare.The lieutenant continues not speaking to either of them the entire way back to the precinct. Instead, he allows Pryce to do the lecturing. He is being petty, but, he is also afraid if he opens his mouth that he will be meaner than he wants to be.
He is furious, but the possibility that his boyfriend was hurt by the experience, even if just psychologically, leaves him wanting to make sure his anger is at least somewhat restrained.Distress, fury, fear: it's all tangled up in his mind.He listens to Jean and Harry attempt to explain what they saw inside the base, but he can barely process it. Something about the Pale.
I don't care.
 They drop Pryce and Jean off at the silk mill, but when Harry unbuckles his seatbelt and starts to move toward the door, Kim finally speaks up.
"No."The detective freezes, and then sinks back into his seat.
He can see his confused expression in the mirror."Put your seatbelt back on."He doesn't release the parking lever until he hears the buckle click into place. Then he begins to drive again.
It's nearly 5 minutes before his partner finally asks, "...where are we going?""To my apartment," Kim tells him."Okay," Harry says softly.
He's surprised I want him around, with how cold I'm being.
"I'm fine with that, but... why? If you're this mad, why not just take me home?" he asks, gently prodding.
He's like this. He always wants to talk about. He can't ever just let it be.
Kim makes eye contact with him in the mirror.
"Did you really think I was just going to drop you off at home? After you did something like that?"
His misbehavior aside, he needs to be watched after going through something like that.

It's exactly the kind of stress that could trigger a relapse.
Harry hangs his head, seemingly unable to come up with a response to that. "You lied to me."He sees the man look up in the mirror. His face is wet with tears now.
Is my anger making this worse?

Maybe. But I have a right to be angry.
"Yeah," he admits quietly. There's no point in trying to deny it.
"I'm sorry, I really am. I- I thought I had a good reason.""Your "good reason" was breaking into an INSURCOM base?" Kim raises a brow. He begins to recite a passage from the Volta do Mar in his mind, to focus himself.
As furious as he is, he will give Harry a chance to make this less terrible, somehow."I couldn't just leave the case like that, Kim," he says. "It didn't feel right... this man was murdered, and we were just going to let it go because it's more convenient for the revolution that way. It made me feel like a dirty cop," he explains.
I kind of sympathize with that.

Making decisions with the good of the war effort in mind is necessary. That's why we have men like Pryce.

But it doesn't feel right. We both signed up with the RCM to serve the people of Revachol. Letting the case go feels like failing this man and his family.
"I understand the sentiment," the lieutenant says as he exits the 8-81 and begins to approach the checkpoint. "But that doesn't mean this was the answer.""But it was a good thing we did it," he tries to counter. "Kim, they're fucking around with The Pale in there-""Stop it," he snaps at him.
"You're not getting out of this just because some good came out of it." He gets in the queue for the checkpoint. Soldiers are around them, peeking in the windows of carriages, and patting down civilians traveling on foot. It takes a few minutes for it to be his turn to share their destination for the occupying forces to record, but he needs that time to prepare himself. 
When they finally get to the stop line, he opens the window."Names?" The soldier barks."Lieutenant Kim Kisturagi, RCM District 41," he has his badge ready to show.
When there's nothing from Harry, he looks over his shoulder at his partner. The man has folded his arms and is looking out the opposite window, seemingly just spacing out.
Having a conversation with himself.
"This my partner, Lieutenant Double-Yfreitor Harrier Du Bois," he reaches back and taps his knee to get his attention.
"Harry. Your ID."
The detective hands it to him without a word.The guard writes it down.
"Destination?"Kim recites his address as he hands Harry his badge back.On the other side of the carriage, another soldier is looking in the windows for possible contraband. Them man directing traffic waits for a thumb-up from the other guard, before waving them through. As they leave the checkpoint, he can't help the guilt he feels. The silence of the drive is starting to unnerve him, even if he kind of bullied Harry into it. He wonders if he's being too hard on him."Officer, you promised me you would take care of yourself," Kim summons a more gentle tone this time as he turns down his street. It still can't disguise his anger, but, he's trying to let up a little bit.
"I assumed that included not pulling stunts like this."His boyfriend grimaces. "I'm so-""If you were sorry, you wouldn't have done it." He manages to hold himself under control, so that he isn't snapping as hard as he was earlier.They pull into his garage, and he climbs out of his carriage.
"Okay... I know you don't want to hear an apology right now," Harry says as he climbs out. "But come on, Kim... we can't go on this way the whole night."
Sure we can.

I'm not ready to forgive him.

But I don't want to do this all night any more than he does.
He has no answer for his boyfriend. The two of them head into the lobby of the building together, and get in the elevator. Kim still hasn't said anything by the time the they are halfway up to his floor. Suddenly, the light in the elevator flickers and dies, and the entire box jolts as the emergency brakes take effect.
Oh good, another blackout.

Why didn't we take the stairs?
"Fuck," Harry says from somewhere next to him, in the dark.The emergency lights come on slowly, providing just enough light for them to see each other.
Kim leans against the wall of the elevator.His partner lets his back slide down the wall, until he's sitting on the floor. He looks up at the fire hatch in the ceiling. "Do you think we should try to escape?"
The power will come back on eventually.
The lieutenant gives a non-committal shrug.
He doesn't see a reason to rush for the emergency exit just yet. The outages recently have been shorter, as the electric company tries to cope- just a few minutes in most cases.
With the elevator between floors, they may not even manage to escape before the power comes back on."Okay, this is ridiculous. Please, if you're going to be mad, at least lecture me or something," his partner breaks down a little bit. "I can't stand it when you give me the silent treatment like this."He sighs heavily. "I'm not being quiet to punish you, Harry," he says, throwing him a bone.
You are a little.
"I just don't know what to say. This is not something that is going to be fixed in one conversation," he tells him."Kim... can't we at least talk about it?" Harry begs."You want to do this?" He asks, holding back his sour tone as much as possible. "Fine. I feel like I can't trust you right now," he adds seriously.Those words make his boyfriend flinch.
"Yeah... um... that sucks to hear, but it makes sense," he rubs his chest. "I'll do better, Kim. I promise," he adds."Promises don't mean anything," he shakes his head. "I'm sorry, but they don't. You're going to have to prove it." The small elevator is starting to feel kind of warm, with both of them in it. He shrugs off his bomber jacket.
"I'll stay in my room this evening," he adds. "We don't have to be around each other."Harry nods and looks at the floor, biting his lip. It doesn't look like that's what he wants, but Kim can't imagine how else they are going to get through this night.
"Hey uh..."The lieutenant looks over to him again, thrown off by his suddenly timid tone.
"What is it?""I just have to ask how bad this is," he says. "Like, okay, I'm on the couch tonight, that's fair. But... then what?" He asks.He furrows his brow. "What do you mean?""I mean: did I fuck this up between us? Are you gonna..."
'leave me?'
He has a petty temptation to not answer; to let the man squirm with worry over the thought- but when he remembers how he has mishandled Harry's light in the past, he can't allow himself to be so childish.
"No," he assures him. "I'm angry, but, things aren't irreparable."He can see the relief pass through is partner's body.
The overhead light flickers as it comes back on, the hum of power returning to the elevator.Kim hits the button for their floor again. There's a scraping, groaning sound, before it starts moving once more.
"But don't you ever lie to me again."

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Harry is sitting on the couch as he waits for Kim to come home, trying to read one of his sci-fi novels. He wants to learn to like it, just to have something more to share with him, but he's having a hard time connecting to the story.
Instead of taking in the words on the page, his mind keeps wandering away.
You should be working.

There’s not enough to do here. You're going to die of boredom.

You wouldn't be bored if you could just concentrate on this book.

Maybe go for a run, get that blood pumping.

No, Kim should be home any minute now.

He’s been “due any minute” for hours.

So much for a nice dinner together.

With you and Jean both on leave, a lot more is falling onto his shoulders.
 He’s brought out of his thoughts by the sound of keys in the lock, finally.
"Harry?" the lieutenant's voice carries from the hallway, as he steps in the front door.The detective looks up, and hesitates. He's a little unsure of what tonight is going to be like.
His plan to set a nice tone for them has been spoiled by Kim working so late. He folds down the corner of the page he's on to save his spot, and gets to his feet, going to the hallway to greet him. "Hey, baby..."The lieutenant is sitting on the bench in the hall, taking off his boots. He looks up at him. "There you are," he says.
There's an awkward silence that hangs over them for a moment, before he makes an effort to break it. "How was your day?"
This is good. He's speaking to you again.
He shrugs a little. "Fine, I guess," he says. "I don't really know what to do with myself... I wish I could have been at work with you."His partner doesn't respond to that, just leaving his boots on the shoe rack before coming further into the apartment.
You both know that you deserve being put on leave.
 "Was yours okay? I hope you're not drowning in work, with both Jean and I out..." Harry tilts his head to steal a look at Kim's watch, finally able to check the time, now that he’s home. It's later than he thought.
"I was expecting you home ages ago," he adds.
You really need to buy a wall clock for him.
"I'm familiar with the feeling," the man says.He rubs the back of his neck, grimacing slightly. "Yeah... I guess you would be," he tries to just accept that blame without pushing back.
Apologize again.

No. He likes action more than apologies.
"There's dinner in the fridge," he adds, trying to move past that moment as the two of them walk toward the kitchen together. "Stuffed chicken breasts and rice. Are you hungry? I could heat it up for you."The lieutenant frowns again, but this time for a different reason. The expression is more contrite than it is angry.
"Actually... I ate something quick on the way home," he tells him. "I'm sorry, I didn't know to expect dinner."
Your cooking would have been better.
"Oh..."
He knows he shouldn't be hurt by that. He hadn't told him he intended to cook, it was meant to be a surprise, and so it’s not like his lover turned down his food on purpose. It still stings, though, after the work he put into it.
"That's okay. You can take it for lunch tomorrow," he says, trying to not take it too hard.
None of this is going how it was supposed to.
 He returns to the couch with his book while Kim settles in, not sure what else to do. He has been looking forward to his boyfriend coming home all day, but now that he's here, the awkwardness hangs between them, making it impossible to appreciate each other's company.The lieutenant gets himself a glass of water, and then gathers up a hand sewing kit, and a shirt which needs mending. He settles at the other end of the sofa, in his usual spot.The space between them feels enormous.
This can't keep going on. You can't bear it.

You have to get him to talk.
He stares at the same spot at the page, not even trying to read the story anymore.
No, you need to give the time he asked for.

How does anything get better if you both just ignore it, though?

This is your moment to give a passionate speech and win him back.

Play your cards right, and make-up sex can be on the menu.
 He clears his throat after a moment, sounding a little like his boyfriend when he does that. He sets the book in his lap, giving up on it.
"Kim? Can we talk?" He asks with caution.The lieutenant sighs like he was expecting this, and adjusts his glasses, before continuing to work on re-attaching a button to one of his shirts. "I already told you; it's not something we can just fix in a single conversation, Harry.""I know that," he says with a frown, trying to make sure his tone doesn't sound too annoyed. "I don't expect to make it all just go away like nothing, but, can't we try to work on it?"Instead of answering, Kim takes a sip of his water.The detective waits for a long moment, hoping to give him a chance to collect his thoughts, but it seems like his boyfriend isn't going to reply.
"I was waiting all day for you to get home," he pleads. "I missed you. I just want to do whatever we can to get through this.""I just don't have anything to say," the man shakes his head. "I'm still angry. That's all there is to it."
You'd have better luck talking to a brick wall.
He shakes his head and then opens the novel again.
This is already better than it was last night, just be patient.
 His eyes slide across three more pages, barely absorbing what they're seeing. It should be an exciting section of the book- a group of explorers discovering an unknown Isola filled with strange, alien life.
He can't pay attention, though. Being patient, and just letting the man be angry with him, isn't something that comes easily to the detective."Do I get to sleep next to you tonight?" He asks suddenly. It's a practical question; bedtime is approaching, after all."I don't know," Kim answers as he works on his button.It's an honest, and fair response, but to Harry, it still feels like a punch in the chest. "Okay..." He isn't trying to guilt-trip him, but he can't quite keep the pain out of his voice. “Um... how do we figure that out?”The lieutenant lets out a deep breath through his nose. "That's the problem, isn't it?" He says. "I don't know. What can we possibly say that can change how things are, Harry?"The words are all too familiar.When he blinks, he sees the golden hair and gleaming aura of Dolores Dei, pulling her luggage toward the aerostatic station. He hasn't dreamed of her in weeks, but now he's suddenly worried that he will start all over again.
It would be all too easy to let that image pull him into despair, but he tries to resist.
He isn't her. That question isn’t a way to punish you.

Hold your head high. This requires confidence.
He draws a deep breath, gathering his courage. "I don't know either," he says. "Maybe just... talk to me about it? Tell me how you feel?""I don't know how I feel," Kim admits after a moment. "I mean, what if instead of coming home tonight, I went and broke into a military base, and then was taken prisoner? How would you feel, Harrier?"
You would be worried for his well being.
"I'd be really scared for you," he scoots closer to him on the couch, but doesn't dare try to touch him yet."I'm not just angry that you lied to me. I'm also mad because that was one of the stupidest decisions I've ever seen," he goes on, "You're smarter than that, I know you are. And I was worried sick, too." The man's hands lay in his lap, no longer working on his mending."I didn't mean to put you through that," the detective shakes his head."But you did. And this isn't even the first time you've disappeared on me,” he shakes his head.
"Do you know what Jean said, when you relapsed and were missing for three days?" The question is rhetorical. "He said you 'just disappear sometimes.' That I shouldn't worry too much because this is something you do."
And he's right.

You are pretty impulsive.
“I almost didn't want to leave you alone today," Kim goes on. "I was a little afraid I would come home and you wouldn't be here." He is good at maintaining an even, professional tone, but Harry can hear the hint of anguish behind it. He knows him well enough, now.His lungs twist in his chest. He wants to tell him the fear is ridiculous, but he knows that it's not. Even if he has no intention of running away from him, his past behavior gives the man plenty of reason to be concerned.He could promise to do better, but that's a promise that's already been made and broken. "I didn't realize that I do that..." the detective says quietly. "Look, I don't know if this means anything, but... I don't want to disappear on you like that." He sets his hand between them, so his fingertips are brushing Kim's thigh. "I wanted to come home to you when we were done in the Pox, actually... but, there's no way I could, with the curfew in place."Kim frowns, but he doesn't brush Harry's hand away.
"Did you really think you were going to get away with it?" he asks incredulously. "For the love of Dei, you're not an action hero."
Don't listen to him. You are the greatest cop who ever lived. You could handle a stealth op any day.

Then why did you get caught, super cop?

Face it, old man. You're not in your prime anymore.
"...yeah," he says quietly, looking down at his feet, "I know.""Do you?" The lieutenant raises a skeptical brow. "Because the way you act sometimes, I don't know if you're delusional, or..." he trails off, as if afraid to say the rest of that sentence."Or what?" Harry tries to get a good look at his face, but it's hard when the man doesn't want to meet his eyes.Kim's hand moves to rest on top of his, "...or if you just don't care what happens to you."
He's avoiding a particular word.
The detective turns his palm over so he can hold his hand properly, and gives it a comforting squeeze, trying to reassure his love."You were in a dark place when we met, and it hasn't been that long since then," Kim goes on. "Behavior like this concerns me, Harry."
He thinks you did this because you wanted to get hurt.

Maybe you did.
 "It wasn’t about anything like that," he tries to assure him, and the voices in his head at the same time. "I did it because... some things feel bigger than us, you know? More important than just me.""Harry, that doesn't sound as good as you think it does," he points out. He isn’t comforted by those words at all. "What am I supposed to think, when you say things like that, and then disappear?""Look... I won't pretend everything is totally fine now, but, I don't want to die anymore," he promises him in no uncertain terms. "I went in there because I wanted to finish the case, and because I want to win this war."Kim pulls his hand away at last, and takes off his glasses so he can wipe them clean. His eyes are kind of shiny underneath from where he's holding back tears.
"I didn't even want us to be a part of this ridiculous war, you know.""Then why did you sign up?" The detective asks. "Pryce isn't forcing either of us to be here.""Pryce isn’t, but that doesn’t mean I had a choice, Harry. I will be crushed no matter what I do. Other Vacholieres will see me as an outsider if they can't see that I'm on their side, and the Coalition will see me as an insurgent by association if I am not backing them. So I might as well fight for the side that wants to give my home another chance." The tone in his voice kind of darkens Harry's lungs.
He's never been an idealist like you. He just wants a quiet, fulfilling life.

He's speaking for half of Revachol, when he says these things.

Most people wouldn’t choose war.
He reaches out and strokes his cheek affectionately, trying to soothe him. His lover's lack of enthusiasm for the fight worries him, not because he doubts his allegiance, but because he doesn’t want to put him in this position.Somewhere in the distance, a series of quiet bangs ring out from the direction of the harbor."Do you know why I want to fight?" He asks him gently.Kim shakes his head "You never said. Patriotism, I assume? Or perhaps the chance to give communism another try?""Well... sure," Harry shrugs a little bit. "Those things are great, but, I also joined because of you; because of us."His boyfriend looks at him with a creased frown.
“I didn’t ask you to do this,” he reminds him.He scoots a little closer, so that they are cuddled up against each other, and he can finally put his arm around his shoulders.
"I know you didn’t. But we have a chance to change a lot more than just the government. I don't just want a free Revachol. I want a Revachol where you don't have to be afraid to hold my hand in public. Where we can be together without worrying about what anyone else thinks. Where someday we could get married, and that word would actually mean something for us." Kim stiffens up in his arms. "We haven't even been together six months, Harry," he says. "It's a little early to think about things like that."
You’re scaring him with this marriage talk. You know he's flighty.

Don’t get carried away again.
"Don't get all worked up about it," he tries to reassure him, pushing down the insecurity he feels. “It’s just a fantasy, not a proposal.”
A “someday” kind of thing.
The way his partner recoils from commitment bothers him, but he tries to not assume the worst. The lieutenant was the one who asked Harry to take him back, after all.
"Why does it scare you, when I say things like that?" he prods gently."I..." the man doesn't manage to come up with anything to say.
Oh no... he doesn't want any of those things, does he?
"If we want all of that, then we both have to stay alive to see it," Kim finally says, trying to move the conversation past his discomfort. He pulls away from him, feeling his lungs ache. The light in his chest is strong, but it brings him searing pain alongside its glow. He's getting the impression that this conversation isn't going to go the direction he hoped.
Is it too much to ask, to hear that your boyfriend actually wants to be with you?
"I'll sleep on the couch tonight," he says, starting to pull away. He should gather up the bedding, and brush his teeth.The lieutenant's hand catches his elbow, stopping him from getting up. "No, wait," he says. He starts to mess with the sewing project in his lap again, so he doesn't have to look him in the eye.
"It's a bit early to talk about marriage, but... I do think about the future,” he tells him. “I've thought about us living together, so I can come home to you every night. I want to share my cigarettes with you on the balcony and look at the stars. Go on long drives..."Harry relaxes back against the couch and cracks a relieved smile, the orange glow from the harbor hitting his face as he does so.
He is describing little things, but they're all the best of the little things. "Why is that so hard to tell me about, baby?" he asks, pressing a little again. "We both want that stuff." He sets his hand on his partner's knee."I'm worried we won't live to see any of that come true," he admits quietly. "Our regular jobs were already dangerous, and now we're wrapped up with everything Pryce is doing."
And then on top of it all, you sneak into an INSURCOM base when you really didn't have to.
"And you're not exactly in the peak of health," he adds.Harry opens his mouth to argue, but Kim silences him with a look."I know you don't like to hear it, but it's true, Detective. You're getting better, but you're not in any shape to fight a war. I'm so mad at you about that base, but the worst part is that I know that things like this will probably happen again, at Pryce's order." Kim's hand creases his shirt as he grips it.He sets his hand on his boyfriend's cheek, and turns his head toward him, so he can kiss his lips.
"We don't know what the future is going to be for us," he tells him, setting his forehead against his. "But we're fighting for the same one, Kim. I'm going to do everything I can to make sure we both get there."The lieutenant wraps his arms around him finally, and hides his face against his shoulder.
"Then don't put yourself in positions like that if you don't have to," he lectures him. "It's going to happen enough as it is."He runs his fingers through his love's thinning hair, just happy to be able to hold him again. "It didn't feel that simple, at the time," he says, "but I'll try. I promise." After a long moment, Kim pulls out of the hug.
"I'm going to have a shower, and then, let's go to bed," he announces.
Does that mean you're allowed back in the bedroom?
"Let's?" He asks. "As in both of us?"The lights from the harbor reflect in the lieutenant's lenses, even brighter than before. He pats his furry cheek. "Yes," he says. "I'll meet you in there.""You sure you don't want someone to wash your back in the shower?" Harry can't help but ask. His reflection is sparkling with mischief."Don't push it," Kim warns him. He's got a warmer expression than he does when he's actually angry, though. "You don't have to sleep on the couch anymore, but I'm still not over it."
You're going to have to wait a little longer to be close with him again.
"Alright," he nods, "I hear you, loud and clear." He lets his boyfriend stand up out of his arms and make his way to the bathroom. While Kim is in the shower, Harry puts away the book he has been trying to read, and starts turning out the lights in the house. He goes to close the curtains over the balcony doors last.
What is that?
A cohesive mass or bright orange-yellow light is consuming a section of the harbor, just at the edge of what he can clearly see from where he stands.
It takes him a moment to realize what it is. He only fully absorbs it when he sees thick black plumes of smoke are rising up from the bay. He almost hadn’t noticed them in the dark.
That is only about 5 kilometers away.

You two should run.
Contrary to his instinct, he opens the door to the balcony and steps out onto it. He squints, trying to make out which part of the harbor is affected. It seems to mostly be that area in the distance.
Martinaise.
He can smell the smoke. It’s scent is acrid and chemical-laden. It makes him worry that his nose is bleeding, because of how harsh it is.
The detective feels his heart stand still in his chest.
Duty calls.

You are not the fire brigade. There's nothing you can do.

Would the fire brigade even go there?

INSURCOM was keeping tabs on Martinaise...

Kim is already angry at you for trying to be too big of a hero.

That fire is enormous. If the wind comes this way, it will spread quickly.
 He turns on his heel and rushes back into the apartment, leaving the balcony door open.
"Kim!" He hammers on the bathroom door as loud as he can. He's not sure what they should do, but whatever it is, it needs to be now.He is about to knock a second time, when the water finally stops. His partner opens the door a few seconds later, wearing only a towel.
"Detective, what's going on?""There's a fire!" He says in alarm, pointing toward the balcony doors.The lieutenant dashes out of the room, to see for himself. He stops next to his couch, his mouth falling open slightly as he takes in the sight. Like Harry, he is momentarily entranced, just taking in the horror.
"Look at the size of it..."Harry retrieves his spectacles for him out of the bathroom. They need to move quickly.
The flames must have already been burning for awhile, to get that big.
He nudges his boyfriend's arm, getting his attention so he can pass him his glasses.
"Get dressed," he says in a serious tone. "We have to go help."

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Kim exits the highway, and they approach the fishing village west of Martinaise. It feels a little like a fool's errand, but he didn't try as hard as he could have to talk his lover out of it. They will probably be of little use, except to maybe help with evacuation, and any injuries, but both of them feel that they have to try.
I don't feel any better about turning my back on people in need than he does.
As they turn a corner, the neighborhood rises into view. A crown of red, golden light marks the top of the harbor wall, with an occasional lick of flame shooting up from it. The electricity in the neighborhood is long since dead, and so it is only illuminated by the starlight, and the blaze."No sign of the fire brigade." Harry says in a dark tone. He is half standing behind Kim's seat, hanging onto it for stability.
He really should be wearing his seatbelt.

That's not important right now.
The lieutenant wishes he felt surprised, but they rushed out here tonight because of this very fear; that the impoverished of Martinaise wouldn't be considered worth saving. "They're probably on their way," he says, not entirely believing his own words.
We can't do much, but at least the people here will see that someone showed up for them.
 He picks up the paddle of his radio as they approach the bridge. "Kisturagi for Precinct 41."Pidieu's voice comes through the static. "10-2, this is Precinct 41, we are receiving you.""Fire! Fire!" He calls the word twice, to be sure that Pidieu heard him, "Martinaise Terminal B. At least 40 minutes in progress. Please confirm fire brigade's ETA.""10-2, hold please."
There's a crackle of static as they wait for the communications officer to connect with the fire brigade's radio lines.The Kineema creeps through the village. The few people who live here are huddled outside their homes, watching the flames on the horizon and hoping they don't need to leave. After all, if they had anywhere to go, they wouldn't be living in this shanty town. It's mostly too dark to recognize them, but Kim can see the silhouette of Lilienne and her three children, all huddled together."All units are already dispatched," the 41st's operator reports after a moment."Like hell they are," Harry growls from behind him. They are crossing the water lock now, but there is no sign of any emergency vehicles what so ever. His anger at their conspicuous absence is evident in his voice.The lieutenant glances at him for a moment, and then strains forward in his seat to look around, in a vain hope that his boyfriend missed something.
"Negative," he replies to the radio. "We're the only ones here.""Units were dispatched to the east side to stop the spread to the rest of the GRIH," their operations specialist explains. "Are you on the east side?"
The rest of the harbor district is much more densely populated than Martinaise, and the fire will likely struggle to cross the water lock and move down into the fishing village beyond.
It makes a grime kind of sense.
"Negative," Kim shakes his head again. "We came from the west, off the highway."
The loss of cargo would decimate supplies that everyone in Revachol depends on, too.

The loss of cargo would be loss of capital. That's the real motivation.
That last thought sounds a bit like Harry; the part of him that speaks in his voice.His partner takes the microphone paddle from his hand, a scowl on his face.
"They really can't spare one truck down here?" He asks incredulously. "Seriously?" The radio crackles, but behind the static, they can hear the soft sounds of the shuffling of papers. Pidieu hasn't hung up on them.
Thinking.

Or hesitant to say what is on his mind.
Kim brings the carriage to a stop, right by the crater where René used to play pétanque with Gaston. He is not willing to get any closer to the flames than this, and even this much feels like it might be too close, given the scale of the fire."None of them fucking care," his partner vents to him as they wait for a response. "These people could burn to death and all anyone would give a shit about is that they can finally tear down the shanties."He shakes his head. Harry is jumping to conclusions, assuming the worst of the people in this city. He wants to argue, but he also understands where the frustration comes from. It was his own anger at injustice that made him want to join the RCM, after all.
They aren't perfect, but they're all Revachol has."I could connect to INSURCOM for more backup," Pidieu finally answers, making it clear why he hesitated for so long.The two policemen look at one another, both of them feeling a sense of trepidation. Calling them for assistance is an option, technically speaking. As far as the Coalition is concerned, INSURCOM and the RCM are both branches of their influence.
He doesn't feel entirely comfortable with the idea, though. There's a strong tension between the two organizations, without the fact that himself and several others are engaged in active resistance. Vibration travels through the floor of the Kineema, accompanied by the sound of creaking steel. The boom of something collapsing, or perhaps some volatile cargo exploding, rolls down from the harbor wall and through the streets, like a viscous liquid.
Harry is silent. His face is red from his anger, and he is gripping the radio paddle a little hard. He meets the lieutenant's eyes, asking a question without words.Kim gives him a curt nod.
We don't have a choice, if we really want to save lives.
"Fuck it," the detective mutters into the microphone through grit teeth. The lieutenant is reminded of how angry he was when Pryce refused to allow them entry to the base. His temper has been shorter, recently. He hasn't turned any of that fury on him, but it seems like it's bubbling just under the surface.
He used to be an angry drunk.

Has he fallen off the wagon?
"Repeat message, officer," Pidieu says. "I am waiting for your order. Should I call for INSURCOM backup?""I said fuck it!" Harry yells sharply.
His breath doesn't smell of beer or mouthwash.
"We have no choice. If they've got anything, send them to west side.""10-4. Calling for backup now."His partner slams the mic down a little too hard as he hangs up. "I can't believe it's come to this," he scowls. He opens the door roughly and hops out. Kim follows him out of the carriage with a little frown. He wishes that Harry would be more gentle with his Kineema. The air out here smells like toxic fumes, and he immediately covers his mouth and nose with a handkerchief from his pocket. Around them, fireflies made of hot ash blink in the air.
"It's better than having no backup at all," he tries to console his partner as he locks the carriage door.Harry is already slinking a few steps away, his body tense and wound up. "All because the firemen can't spare one-" he kicks a nearby park bench, hard "-truck!"The lieutenant frowns deeper, and then pushes his glasses back up his nose, where they have slipped down.
"You need to put your feelings aside," he scolds him.The man kicks the bench again, harder this time. "They probably set the damn fire in the first place!"
It tips head-first into the crater.The lieutenant tucks his hands behind him and holds his chin high, watching his partner throw his tantrum with a raised brow. It reminds him of the first day they met, and not in a good way.
"Officer," he says in an even tone, "I'm not happy with the situation either, but the only thing that matters now is getting people to safety. You are the one who insisted we come out here."That seems to reign the detective in a little bit. He leans over and sets his hands on his knees, slightly out of breath from taking his frustration out on the bench.
"You're right," he says after a moment, rubbing his foot."Let's go." Kim decides to take the lead, wanting to act as a buffer between Harry and everyone else while the man pulls himself together.
He strides quickly toward the plaza in front of the Whirling-in-Rags, where a small crowd has gathered. They looks like mostly dock workers, probably people working the night shift.
These people are too close.

INSURCOM may need this area clear for equipment.
 The huge harbor wall, which was used to lock off the area during the strike, is now helping to contain the flames. He sees Titus and another man standing in the street next to the Whirling.A worker comes running up from across the roundabout, rushing toward the harbor at a full sprint. He's yelling in hysterics, "James!"Titus half grapples him, preventing him from getting any closer to the flames.The man struggles against him. "No, let me go. James is inside!""Then he's dead," Hardie says. "You go in there after him, you're dead too."
Alain, standing beside him, starts to pull the guy away from his boss. Titus's arm is no longer in a sling, but, he probably still isn't at his full strength. He needs the help.Kim hurries up to assist, just in time to help tug him away and steady him on his feet. "He's right," he tells him grimly. "Running in there will only get you killed."That's all it takes for the man to break down. He lets out half a sob, and then just stands there, no longer trying to get past either of them. Alain takes him gently by the shoulder, and starts to steer him back toward the plaza, with the rest of the crowd."Wasn't expecting backup," Titus says."More are on their way," the lieutenant decides not to mention what form the backup will take.
If the people of Martinaise feel that the RCM are unwelcome outsiders, INSURCOM is probably even less popular.
"We should clear this plaza," he adds. "They might need the space for vehicles." There's another crackling sound from the glowing harbor, and a bit of debris falls over the wall, landing on the roof of the apartment block."Fuck," a large man in the plaza calls out from where he's standing. "Boss, we haven't gone through Capeside yet!"
He recognizes the voice and silhouette of Angus."We'll sweep the apartments," Harry volunteers right away, his voice more normal and collected. He seems to have gotten it together after his earlier outburst. "You and the guys move everyone down to the waterfront."
He turns to hurry away without waiting for Titus to answer. With something burning on the apartment roof, it's only a matter of time before the building itself catches alight.For as much as he wrings his hands over his partner's delicate health, the man really can move. Kim hurries to follow him through the big hole in the fence, into to the yard where the hanged man was found, months before.He can see his partner heading toward the dumpster, likely planning on using it to hop the fence, in order to reach Capeside faster. During their first investigation together, he'd struggled a bit to keep up with his partner's constant jogging, but short sprints like this have never been a problem for him. In fact, of the two of them, he's probably faster. He manages to overtake the detective, hopping the fence and rushing to the door to the apartment building. He is propping it open with a cinder block when the man catches up.A flash of light draws his attention, and he looks up to see that the roof of one of the shanties pressed up against the harbor wall has caught fire- it must have had something burning fall on it too, earlier.Harry pauses at the doorway, distracted by the light. He stares at it intensely, with the same kind of look on his face that he gets when he's visualizing a crime scene.
"5 minutes at the most," he announces with confidence, after a few seconds of staring.Kim isn't sure how he knows how to estimate things like this, but he trusts that he's right.
Building safety is an optional class for RCM officers to study in. Perhaps he took it once.
 He follows his partner into a dark hallway. The only light comes from the glow of the fire outside. "Fire!" The lieutenant yells as loud as he can. He thinks he can hear movement in the flat closest to him.
I should have thought to grab the flashlight out of the Kineema.
"We start at the top," his partner grabs his elbow, pulling him toward the stairs and rushing up them. "The roof will catch first. If we work our way down, we get the most people out without getting stuck ourselves."
This building is too large for two people to cover in 5 minutes.
It's been a long time since his evacuation training, but he remembers it in a broad sense. There is an organized way that situations like this are approached. "I'll take the left side," he tells the detective when they reach the top of the stairs, slightly breathless. He doesn't stop to make sure Harry heard him; there's no time for that now.Kim hammers on the first door, announcing the fire at the top of his voice, before trying the handle. It's unlocked. A man and woman are in bed inside, both just waking up from the commotion.
"There's a fire!" He says again, as they scramble to get out of bed and leave. "Both of you pick a door and knock before you leave," he instructs them. "If anyone is inside, tell them to do the same."In an ideal situation they would have enough officers that civilians wouldn't need to dally and help, but an emergency is never an ideal situation. People have to depend on their neighbors to come through for them. That's how it has always been, for Revachol. As loft the goals of the RCM, they've never been able to take that burden from the shoulders of the people.The tenants do as he instructed, each of them rushing to nearby doors, so that he can move further down the hall. Behind him, he can hear his partner doing the same thing. Run to a door, wake the people inside, have each one try to inform a neighbor before they flee. It gives them extra help, and helps to keep too many people from crowding on the stairs all at once.Kim heads down the stairs to the next floor as soon as his side is finished, without waiting for Harry. He hates leaving him behind to potential danger, but he does not allow himself to hesitate.He clears another two apartments. One of them is empty, and the other has only one man inside, who goes to help an elderly neighbor evacuate. Around him, the sounds of panicked people in the hall start to build up, as residents are coming out of their homes, yelling for neighbors and loved ones, and rushing to leave. It's mostly a good thing, it helps to speed up the process, but the chaos can be a little overwhelming.When enough people are awake and helping, he and Harry stop knocking on doors. Instead, they head to the stair wells on opposite ends of the building, trying to make sure people are leaving in an orderly way, and not panicking. When most of the residents are gone, he checks his watch. It's been four minutes since they entered the building. If the roof of Capeside isn't already aflame, than according to Harry's estimate, it is about to be.A handful of doors around them are still closed. He points to one, sending his partner that way, before he begins to quickly open and clear the doors that remain.
We are cutting this close.
The lieutenant knocks loudly on his next door, and then tries the handle. It is locked.
"FIRE!" He yells, knocking again. There's a crashing sound from somewhere inside, it sounds like a mix of different things all clattering to the floor- but no one comes to the door. He finds himself hesitating.
Someone might have just injured themself.

Or maybe it's just an animal.
He looks at his watch again. Less than a minute has passed, but, every moment feels like borrowed time now.
Kim thinks he hears another sound, but he isn't sure if it's coming from inside the apartment in front of him, or from somewhere above him.
Even a building made of stone can combust with frightening speed.
He has to leave. As he turns on his heel, however, he is struck with a paralyzing sense of dread.
No. Someone is inside.
He has less than a second to make a choice. He should evacuate and meet Harry downstairs, but if someone is there, he can't leave them to die. Kim turns and hammers on the door once again, so loudly that his hand stings from the impact. In the back of his mind, he wonders if he's a hypocrite, for being angry with his boyfriend for playing hero, but sticking around for this.
If I want in, I will have to break it down.
Kim is already committed. He kicks the door as hard as he can, right next to the lock. The sound echoes through the hallway, and again he thinks he hears some noise from above him. In his minds eye he can see the billowing flames from the harbor. There isn't any visible smoke yet, but he can smell the burning from outside.
Is it getting hot in here?

I can't tell, I've been running.

The flames likely aren't that large yet, but we are still running out of time.
 He kicks it again, and the door rattles in the frame from the force of it. He's getting closing to breaking it open, the wood creaking with the effort.Behind him he can hear footsteps, but he doesn't look to see who it is. "What's going on?" His partner's voice asks."This door is locked," he pauses to catch his breath, and glances over at him."Kim, no." Harry grabs his arm and starts to pull him toward the stairwell. "This building is probably on fire, we have to go!"He can't force his feet to move. The dread pools in his stomach, and he just knows, for some reason he cannot explain, that if he leaves he will never forgive himself.
"Someone is inside. I know it."
You don't know that, Kisturagi.
There's a second where the detective just looks at him through the darkness, taking in as much of his expression as he can see.
"Okay," he says softly, after a moment. "Lets do this."
Kim softened up the lock for him, but Harry has bulk and weight that he lacks. He uses it now by backing up to get a running start, and slamming the full force of his body into it, shoulder first.The door flies open violently- but it strikes something halfway, and then swings back, nearly hitting the detective in the face. The inside of the apartment is small, but crowded with piles of things. It's a horde of garbage, clothes, old furniture, boxes of things... the lieutenant isn't really sure what all is in there. The glow of the harbor fire is all that illuminates it, streaming in through the window.
Maybe something just fell on its own. No one is here.
They hear shuffling again, but he can't see anyone.
"RCM!" Harry announces to the room. "There's a fire, you need to evacuate. Now!"No answer. There are not many places for someone to be in this mess, and the room is just a bed, a tiny table, and a little kitchenette.
The lieutenant moves past his partner, and steps over the huge pile of magazines that is blocking the door, to get further inside.
How do people get around in here?
He has to pick his way across the entire room to open the bathroom, but sees nothing except a shower without a curtain, and piles of clothing everywhere.
"Maybe it's a scared pet," he says, looking over to where Harry is standing in the doorway. "You're right, this was a waste of time."
He still doesn't really believe it, even as he turns to leave. At least if they leave the door open, any animal inside will have a chance to escape. As he climbs back over the piles of things, his eyes catch a flash of movement in the darkness, darting under the bed.
His breath stills.
It's a monster.
The notion of a monster under the bed is a childish one, but here, in the dark, with certain death burning somewhere above him, his hind brain is suddenly convinced that it could be nothing else.
He closes his eyes, and forces himself to kneel down.
You are a grown man, Kisturagi. Get it together.
When he opens his eyes, he is nose to nose with something. It has bright blue eyes reflecting the shadow of Harry standing in the door.It's a little girl.
Fuck. I am not good with children.

This must be terrifying for her.
She looks no older than six, although it's very hard to tell in this darkness.Kim draws a breath, and when he speaks again, he tries to sound gentle. "There's a fire," he says. He reaches out his hand, offering it to her. "I need you to come with me."She shakes her head vigorously. "Papa says not to go with strangers.""And he's right," he says, nodding as calmly as he can, "but I am a policeman. This is an emergency, you have to come with me, it's not safe here.""Liar!" She curls up, and he realizes that she is wrapped around some kind of stuffed animal, or maybe a baby blanket. He can't tell in the darkness. "Go away!"
We are at least two and a half minutes over time.
Pulling her out will likely be scary for the little girl, but, Kim thinks it's better to be scared and alive than dead in a fire. He lays down on the ground, so he can reach both arms under the bed to grab her. "I'm sorry," he says as he tries to grab her around the middle, "we have no choice."She screams and tries kicks him in the legs, before rolling to the very back of the bed, up against the wall. He only catches her by the wrist, the rest of her body firmly out of his reach. He doesn't want to hurt her, but the flames are coming for them all. He tries to pull her out anyway.The girl starts bawling almost immediately, with great big tears pouring down her face. "You're hurting me!" 
The scrawny teenager is wedged in the cabinet behind the water heater, peering out at the policemen like a feral animal. His face, chest, and hands are covered in little flecks of blood from beating up the other kid.

Kim's partner is too broad framed to get back there, and so it's up to him to get their suspect out. They need to get him under control, put him in a juvenile facility, and try to connect him with a social worker to help with his anger issues. He's a danger to other kids. The officer squishes himself half into the cabinet and grabs the boy's wrist- the only part of him he can reach.

"Fuck off, pig," the boy spits.

A streak of saliva lands on the lens of his glasses, and drops onto his cheek below, but the young officer doesn't hesitate. He pulls the child out by the arm, until enough of him is exposed that his partner can help.

"Stop!" The kid tries to swing a punch at them as they pull him out of his hiding place. "You're hurting me!"
 Sharp teeth sink into his hand, and he hisses in pain and recoils from the monster under the bed."Hey, go easy on her!" Harry says from the door. He can hear the frown in his voice.Kim looks at the bite on his hand, but he can barely see it in this darkness. He doesn't think it's bleeding, but if she broke the skin, it will need to be disinfected.
"We don't have time for going easy." In spite of his statement, he moves out of the way for his partner instinctively. The man has a way with kids that he doesn't share.When he stands up, he realizes that there's enough smoke in the hallway for his eyes to sting now. He hadn't been able to tell, when he was close to the ground. As he watches the detective crouch down, the lieutenant asks, "Does anyone else need evacuation?""No," Harry shakes his head as he takes the lieutenant's place next to the bed. "Pretty sure she's the last one." His frazzled energy seems to become instantly calm. When he speaks to the little girl, his voice is soothing and relaxed. You wouldn't know there was a fire or anything urgent happening at all.
"Hey, there... it's okay. Are you hurt?""He hurt me!" Kim can barely hear the girl's answer, but he feels the weight of it in his chest. He hadn't meant to hurt her, it was an accident.
He checks his watch anxiously. "It's been eight minutes, Detective," he says. "We need to go.""Oh no," his partner says to the girl with exaggerated concern. "Can I see it?"
He doesn't acknowledge what he said.The lieutenant doesn't have a good view of what's going on, but he can imagine she must be showing him her wrist, where he pulled on her."It will stop hurting soon," the detective promises her. "What's your name? I'm Harry.""Betty.""Hi Lettie. I'm a policeman," he tells her. "Sorry about my partner. He didn't mean to hurt you. He just wants you to be safe. See, there's a fire, and we all need to go outside right now."Kim can hear the unmistakable sound of something falling over, on the floor above them. "Officer," he says in a warning tone, looking upward. The ceiling doesn't look any different. When he reaches his hand up, he can't feel any heat either, but he doesn't quite trust that. "We're out of time."When he looks down again, Harry is pulling the little girl out of her hiding place and into his arms. She's holding a stuffed bird against her chest. Seeing her now, he realizes she's even younger than he thought.The lieutenant turns and dashes for the stairwell, to make sure the way is clear for the two of them. He can hear his partner behind him, presumably carrying the girl. Together they hurry down. The courtyard seems so much brighter in comparison to the dark apartment complex, that stepping outside feels almost like walking into the sunlight. The whole neighborhood is illuminated by the light of the fire, reflecting off the smoke that has been thrown into the air.
They can see that two military trucks have arrived and taken over the courtyard in front of the Whirling-in-Rags. One of them is dousing the shanties, and the apartment block they are in, with water.
That must be what I heard: water on the roof.
His partner does not stop to take in the scene, hurrying past him with the little girl, straight toward the waterfront. The murmuring of people talking can be heard from that direction.A man in a military uniform is standing at the door, waving them out as they rushed past him.
The lieutenant doesn't bother to tell him that the building is clear, letting the soldier run inside at risk to his own life to check.
After all, I might be wrong. Maybe we missed someone.

Or maybe you want him to choke to death on smoke, out of spite.
He snuffs that thought out quickly, not willing to entertain that kind of darkness. War isn't an excuse for a loss of their humanity.Kim pauses in the middle of the yard outside, and turns around to look up at the building. The INSURCOM soldiers are trying to help control the flames, but the roof of Capeside is still ablaze. The smoke billows into the air and co-mingles with the soot from the harbor.
This must be what it looked like when it was shelled.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

The flames from the harbor sizzle and glow all through the night. It feels like the darkness never really settles in, with the sparking embers illuminating the battle-hardened neighborhood better than the streetlights would have.Eventually, long after families have collected on park benches or under awnings to wait it all out, the pink and golden hand of the sun reaches up over the harbor wall. It casts all of Martinaise in a bright, cool light, and brings the wind along with it. That breeze whisks away the remains of the smoke, so that as dawn turns into morning, the air is nearly clear.Bitterness still hangs in Harry's chest at the thought that they had to call their enemy for backup, but he cannot deny that they did a good job. The fire is almost extinguished now. INSURCOM response ships spent the whole night dousing the flames from the bay itself, while the two trucks in the plaza made sure that the fire didn't spread past the top floor of Capeside.
You should be proud of yourself. Putting other people first, as Kim says.
In contrast to the cheerful summer morning, the detective's body feels exhausted and run down. He's stayed up all night before, but this is different from a morning after being high. It's a level of exhaustion he wasn't expecting. It reminds him of how he felt when he woke up in the Whirling, on the first day of his life, except without the remaining speed in his system to keep him going. Harry is packing the last of the medical supplies back into the Kineema's toolbox while he waits for his partner to finish speaking with the INSURCOM soldiers. Kim doesn't want to let him speak to them, after the fight he started at the power plant. He doesn't mind, really, happy to let the man take on that responsibility.
As he closes the drawer of the pull-out toolbox, he looks up and sees him walking back toward him, across the tiled plaza.
Don't wave at him.
The detective waves, unable to restrain his eagerness to talk to his favorite person, even through his exhaustion.Kim gives him a nod, but doesn't wave back. He almost never does, always content to greet him in person instead. As he approaches, he reaches into his pocket and produces a cigarette and his lighter.
That's a good sign, that means it's the end of the day.

Or it's a bad sign, because he needs it so bad he can't wait.
"What did he say?" the detective asks when he gets close enough."He said the fire is well contained. It should be extinguished completely within six hours," the smoke from the cigarette clings to his partner's words."Thank the Innocence," he sighs with relief. "That means we can go to bed.""Mmhm," Kim nods, sipping on his cigarette. The smell of the smoke wraps around them both.Harry licks his lips, as if he could taste the smoke from the air, like a lizard.
Oh yeah, baby. You need a puff of that.

Get him to breath it right into you.

Not when you're on the job.

Besides, he's still a little mad at you.
He opts to reach out with his hand toward the cigarette, rather than to try to get too close to his boyfriend in public. "Can I?" He asks. He doesn't voice his more intimate desire.The man passes it to him.
"I asked him about the cause of the fire, too," he says."Yeah?" Harry takes a puff of the smoke. He enjoys the sensation of the nicotine running through him. The chestnut smell that hangs in the air around them is enjoyable too. It's comforting."They aren't sure yet, but they think it was an intentional attack," the lieutenant reports. He says it the same way he recites facts for a case, with his face pulled into a subtle frown."An intentional attack?" his breath catches in his chest.
It was INSURCOM.

If the soldiers did it, wouldn't they say it was an accident?

Unless they did such a sloppy job that they can't make it out to be accidental.

They lit it so they could blame "insurgents."
INSURCOM has plenty of reasons to lie to them, but the way in which they might be obscuring the truth is a mystery. It could be an accident that they are claiming was intentional, or an attack they perpetrated themselves which they are trying to throw blame on to someone else.
He passes the cigarette back to his partner. Kim takes a deep drag of it. "I think we should stay here, and investigate," he says. "If there is an arsonist in Martinaise, we need to apprehend them."
An arsonist is far more dangerous than a murderer. Their body counts can be much higher.

He's having the same suspicion that you are. INSURCOM is not trustworthy.
"Yeah," he nods, "I agree. But first... I really need some sleep. I feel wrung out.""Me too," his partner agrees as he passes the cigarette back to him. It is getting pretty low now.As Harry takes another drag from it, the wind whips by them, sending a shudder through his body. 
Southwest of here, a man in a white hazard suit stands near the middle of an abandoned classroom. To his left, in the center of the work area, is an apparatus consisting of a small metal sphere, enclosed in two halves of a snugly fit shell that meet in the center. The outer shell is mostly round, but the top half comes to a tip, forming a cone.

Several other people are in the room around this machine. They are holding clipboards, electronic meters, and other various equipment. Those who are standing closest are in the same protective hazard suits as the man right next to the core.

The room seems unusually silent as all the scientists wait, watching as the top half is lowered closer and closer to its mate, until the space between the shells is less than a centimeter wide.

When the two halves have nearly met, a speck of light the size of a pinhead appears just over the point of the metal cone. The light is as bright and intense as the sun itself. Suddenly, air in the room is moving, rushing toward the anomaly. It is blowing things around the room, but there is still no sound. The lights around them flicker and go out, except for the one that they have created. That light is growing, wider and bigger, while a scientist at the back of the room times it on a stop watch.
 The sharp pain of his fingers being singed pulls Harry out of his vision. He hisses and drops the cigarette butt on the ground, and then stamps it out.Kim is reaching past him, for the paddle of the radio, just as it happens. He eyes him with something that might be judgement, or perhaps thinly veiled concern. "Be careful," he chastises him."Sorry," he says, trying to pull himself back from the strange moment. His muscles are still trembling a little bit, even though he feels warm enough.His partner doesn't reply, pre-occupied with calling their station.
"Kisturagi to Precinct 41."The static of the radio line answers them, but no voice comes through it."Come in, Precinct 41," he tries again after a moment.The static sounds like a thousand whispering voices, so quiet that any "words" must be solely in his imagination. They are all speaking over each other, screaming but barely heard."10-1 Pidieu, I am not hearing you," Kim frowns.The whispers become more erratic, and now he is sure that they are hearing something. Maybe they aren't voices after all, but stray sounds of other types, like music, or something else. He can almost feel the sound more than hear it.The lieutenant frowns and reaches out to key the radio a couple of times, opening and closing the channel to try to get a better connection.
"Kisturagi to Precinct 41. Pidieu, do you read me?"Something that is definitely a voice finally comes through, but it is still choppy and unclear. First a high pitched, female sounding tone, and then a deeper, male one. They kind of overlap each other. Whatever they're saying, words can't be made out."We must be getting interference," his partner says, glancing toward the INSURCOM trucks hanging around the plaza.
It's definitely interference, but not from the other radios.

Those are the sounds of the porch collapse.

Like you heard in the classroom laboratory.
"Yeah," he confirms, "definitely." He doesn't elaborate on the rest of it. A clear signal finally comes through, interrupting any further conversation.
"This is Precinct 41. Come in Lieutenant," It's not old man Pidieu's voice at all. It is the unrecognizable voice of a young woman."Finally," he sighs, frustration leaving his voice. "This is Lieutenant Kitsuragi, reporting in. Du Bois and I have finished assisting at Terminal B.""Acknowledged," the woman is Apricot, he realizes, Pidieu's daughter who usually does secretarial work for Pryce. "Are you returning to the silk mill now?"
She must be filling in for him.

The old man has to sleep sometime.
"Negative," his partner shakes his head. "We will stay to investigate the cause of the fire.""I understand," she says. "I will inform the captain that you are opening a case.""Thank you. Please inform Lieutenant Vicquemare as well. We may be here for several days.""Yes, sir. Is there anything else?" She asks."No, thank you, ma'am." Kim hangs up the radio microphone. "Bed now?" He asks as his partner is hanging up, a little over eager for rest. It's hard to think about anything else; even the implications of what Revachol has shown to him.
The only thing you can think about is sleeping cuddled up next to him.
"Bed now," his boyfriend agrees with a nod. He looks across the plaza toward the Whirling, and then down toward the fishing village, thinking over their options. With the top floor of Capeside suffering from fire damage, most of the rooms are in high demand. There won't be space for them.
"I think, given the circumstances, that we should sleep in the Kineema," he says after a moment.The rush of disappointment takes some of the warm glow from Harry's lungs. He wants to snuggle with him, especially after being condemned to the couch the night before, but there just isn't enough room in the carriage for that.His mood must show on his face, because before he can say anything, Kim is already trying to smooth it over. "There just isn't room for us anywhere else, Detective. We have to make due."He nods in agreement, and eyes the back seat to try to estimate the space, even though he already knows there's really only room for one person to lay there.
He deserves to be as comfortable as possible.
"You take the back," he suggests, trying not to sound so melancholy, and hoping to chalk most of it up to their mutual exhaustion. "I'll sit up front."His partner looks at him, considering that. "Alright," he says after a moment, climbing into the back seat. "Thank you, Harry."
Damn, it's worse than you thought, if he gave in that easy.

He really does need that sleep.
The detective gets in after him, and settles into the operator's seat to sit up for the next few hours. It's going to be hard to sleep with so much light streaming in the window, so he takes off his jacket and drapes it over his head, making a little tent out of it. He's so tired that he feels like he can barely function anymore, but in spite of that fact, sleep isn't rushing to take him. He sits there, listening to the sounds of the soldiers outside, the murmuring of voices as the residents of Martinaise try to shelter themselves after their traumatic night, and the breathing of his partner in the back seat.
That sound makes him realize that he feels slightly suffocated under his jacket, and he tries to rearrange it so it hangs more loosely, without letting in too much light. He needs to push through all of it and get at least a little sleep.As he finally begins to drift off, he fantasizes about being wrapped up in his lover's arms.
You could both fit back there. He could sleep on your chest.

Kim would absolutely not allow that in a place like this.

It's too public.
Memories of their conversation from the night before bubble up in his soporific state. He feels like his lover is kilometers from him lately, even now, when they're sitting together in the same carriage.
Him messing everything up doesn't make that feeling any better, either.
You don't deserve him.

He's slipping away from you. Haven't you noticed, Harry? You're fucking it all up, all over again.

No. You just need to talk it out. It will be alright.
He is caught between wakefulness and sleep, unable to shut off his mind.
When dreams finally come, there are no images, only darkness. He can hear the beauty of Her face, and taste the sweetness of Her voice.
"You failed me too many times."

"I know... I know I did. But I can do better. Give me another chance."

"Why should I? You've had so many, and you wasted them all."
If he loses Her, he loses him. This much, he is very sure of.
"Because, I'm learning. I already am doing better. Just let me keep proving it to you."
"You can try," She says, "but what use is it? You already lost me. Losing him is only a matter of time."
He feels the touch of Her sadness.
No, that's not sorrow. It's pity.

"It was just a fight. Just one fight. I'm not ready to give up."

What you have together is nothing but a moment in time. Like leaves in the wind. You're both falling.

You made your choices a long time ago, Harry.

"Some day soon, he's going to open his eyes and realize what you really are, just like I did. Then, he'll want to leave. It won't matter if you're ready to give up or not."
"No..." he shakes his head. "You're wrong.""I'm sorry... I didn't want it to be this way." There's such sincere pain in Her voice. After all, She has love for all of humanity.
All of humanity except for you.
She can't give him that love anymore, but that doesn't mean She wants him to go without."Give me another chance," he begs Her. "I deserve another chance."
So what, if you failed before? You can get it right this time.

No Goddess gets to decide that you are unlovable.

If you think about it, a deity is the epitome of the bourgeoise.

Resist.
"Please," he murmurs, not sure if he's begging Her anymore, or if he's begging himself. There's a touch on his shoulder. It is gentle and sweet, but it pulls him from his sleep so suddenly that he jumps."Detective," his lover's voice reaches him, soothing his startled mind. "You are talking in your sleep."It feels like he only just started to doze off, but as his eyes adjust to the light, he realizes that his coat has slipped down off himself, and the sun has moved.
At least four hours have passed.
"Shit," he mumbles, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye. There are some crusty bits there, too. He must have been crying in his sleep for awhile.
"I'm sorry, did I wake you up?"Kim is silent for a moment too long.
Oh. You did.
"It's fine," his partner says, trying to brush past it. "There is a lot to do, anyway. We should have some coffee, and then get to work."He leans forward and takes in the sight of Martinaise in full daylight. The military trucks have cleared away, leaving the city block looking almost exactly like it did this past spring, although much less snowy.
Whatever fire is left can be extinguished from the bay now.
"Right," he stretches his arms, and then climbs out of the carriage. He uses the side mirror to try to make sure he looks at least a little presentable while he waits for his partner to join him.
He doesn't care as much about his appearance as Kim does, but, it does help people to take him more seriously when he doesn't look feral.His boyfriend follows him out a moment later. "I'm sure the harbor itself will be off limits for awhile longer," he is saying. "In the meantime, we should start with the night guard and the dock workers." Harry nods in agreement, watching Kim lock up the Kineema.
Sunlight hits the man's face, illuminating a few little strands of grey that are beginning to appear in his hair. It's starting to get thinner at the back, too, even if it's holding up better overall than the detective's own. He wants to reach out and touch one of the fading strands, but he keeps his hands to himself.
Instead, he just appreciates him quietly. His partner doesn't look well rested; the harsh raking light of day shows off slightly dark circles under his eyes, and his forehead is wrinkled from chronic stress. He wants to kiss every crease, until they fade away.As he finishes with the lock and turns, the lieutenant realizes that Harry has been starring at him. "What?" He raises his brow."You're beautiful," he makes sure to say it quietly, just barely above a whisper, so only the two of them can hear it.
Dolores Dei is wrong. This man will stay by your side for the rest of your life.
Kim's ears turn bright red, and he raises a gloved hand an clears his throat. "Detective, really," he protests quietly.Harry flashes him a broad smile. The sight of that flustered little blush chases away his anxious dreams. If his boyfriend didn't want to be here, then he wouldn't be. Everything else they might face are just pebbles on the road.
"Come on, Lieutenant," he says, calling him by his title in a slightly playful tone. "Let's get that coffee."  They spend the morning interviewing the dock workers who were present when the fire started. Their stories match up quite well, allowing the two officers to put together a rough timeline of the case. It was early in the night shift, but still well after the cover of darkness, when a series of explosions rocked through the harbor. The few workers who were in a position to see multiple explosions report that they were fairly evenly spaced across Terminal B, only seconds apart.It unsettles Harry a little bit. That kind of precision implies hand placed, mechanical bombs; a highly organized operation, not just some angry delinquents with moltovs.They finish the initial interviews about halfway through the afternoon, but the harbor isn't open yet. Without much to do until they gain access to the scene of the crime, they decide to go interview others in the town.
Harry insists that they check in on Soona. The Dolorian Church of Humanity towers over the beach. Even from afar, it's obvious that the place has been further boarded up. In several places spray paint has been used to write things like "Danger" and "Keep Out," and all the windows, and the door itself, are covered.Harry begins to jog to close the distance, feeling an uneasy lump in his throat. The padlock on the door becomes obvious as he gets a little closer. When he reaches the building, he tries to peer through a tiny gap in the boards over the nearest window. "You don't think everyone's gone, do you?" He asks."It certainly looks that way," Kim frowns. "Perhaps the danger of the swallow became too much?"
You should be careful, so that your Pale Poisoning doesn't get worse.

There's no such condition as "Pale Poisoning."

That's just because doctors have to give everything overly complicated names.
He moves to another window, trying to get any kind of glimpse inside. "I hope not," he says. "If it got any worse, that might mean it's growing faster than Soona thought."
The swallow has presumably been present for centuries. It must be why this location was chosen for the church, when at the time is was truly in the middle of nowhere. The programmer said, during their investigation in the spring, that the thing appeared to be growing at an alarming rate. If that growth is exponential, then it could pose a huge danger to all of Revachol. Perhaps all of Insulinde, even.
What a shame, this could have been an amazing club.
He tries to take some comfort in the fact that the eerie silence of the swallow has not extended beyond the church walls. His partner knocks on the door, glancing at his watch. He doesn't look very hopeful that anyone will be inside."Do you think Crab-Man is gone too?" Harry asks, shielding his eyes from the ambient light as he tries to make anything out through the crack. It's no use."I'm not sure," the lieutenant says as he waits for someone to come to the door. "With the way that man was exposing himself to the Pale, he may not be in a state to answer even if he is here."
If he is so addled by the Pale that he cannot come to the door, he may need medical assistance.

If anyone is inside, they can't get out with this padlock on the door.
Harry finally presses his face directly up against the boards, feeling a splinter break off into his beard. There are dark shapes inside. They are difficult to make out, but just possible when he blocks out all the other light from around him.
He sees a soft glow coming through the shattered stained glass window at the front of the church. There are the shadows of the little pillars that line the sides of the building, and other familiar shapes laying beyond them.
"I see the radiocomputer!""She wouldn't abandon that," Kim says with certainty. He comes to stand next to him, but the slit between the boards is so narrow that he wouldn't have a hope of seeing through it with his weak eyes. He doesn't even try. "Maybe she is just out?" "Hello officers," a stern voice from behind them rings out.
Soona is walking up, a bag of groceries in one arm and a key in her other hand.
You couldn't hear her approach, over the wind.
"Soona!" Harry exclaims, happy to see her. "There you are! Glad you're not locked inside.""I wasn't expecting you," she says as she begins to undo the lock."Yes, sorry to drop in unannounced, Ms. Luukanen-Kilde," Kim says. "We were in the neighborhood and wanted to speak with you.""Just hurry up and come in," she ducks into the church and waves them inside, looking over her shoulder as she does so. As soon as they are both in, she locks up the door again, from the inside this time."What's with the security?" The detective asks, watching her."I've been having a lot of unwanted visitors lately, interrupting my work," she explains."Unwanted visitors?" Kim produces his notebook, ready to note down anything important that might shed light on their new case."Yes," she says, giving the two of them a pointed look.
Like you.
She moves toward the back of the church, the opposite end from where her computer is set up, seemingly uncaring if they follow her or not. There's a small room back there, which has been turned into a makeshift kitchen. She gives the swallow a wide berth on her way past it."We're sorry to disturb you," the lieutenant assures her again. "We just have a few questions, and then we'll let you get back to work."
He looks over at Harry, turning the interview over him. The detective clears his throat. "Right, yeah. We're investigating the fire that happened in the harbor. There's evidence that it was arson. Anything shady going down around here that we should know about?""Military personnel have been passing through pretty frequently," she remarks right away. There's a small fridge, attached to a generator back here, just big enough for a single person. She begins to pack her milk and eggs into it."When did that start?" Harry asks her, siting on one of the counters."A couple of weeks ago. Not too long after the checkpoints came up across the city." She always speaks in a clipped, impatient tone, but this time it feels a little more hostile than normal.
There's some personal history there.

Don't mention that you called them.
"Not a big fan, huh?" He tries to sound casual about it, fishing for her feelings on the war. He can feel the look that his partner is shooting him, and chooses to not glance in his direction."No," she says, "I'm not." Soona does not elaborate."Me either," Harry assures her, hoping to put her at ease. She doesn't seem to be on the Coalition's side, but he still has a nagging feeling that they are not entirely welcome here.
"Good to know that we have-"The programmer interrupts him. "Look, officer," she says. "I know why you're here, and I'm going to tell you the same thing that I told those soldiers: I don't want any part of this ridiculous war." He falls silent and blinks, taken aback. It's true that he wanted to reach out to her on behalf of the ICM, but that isn't the only reason they are here today. He talked Kim into it, after all, by promising they would question her mostly about the case.
"Um..." he loses his verbal footing, not sure what to say."Why do you think that's why we wanted to visit you today?" Kim asks, jumping in to rescue his partner.
He doesn't like the idea that someone pegged you two for revolutionaries so easily.
"Because I'm not stupid," she answers, closing the fridge now that her perishables are stored away. "The whole neighborhood knows he's a communard," she gestures at Harry. "So of course you two will be part of the rebellion. If INSURCOM approached me looking for technical expertise, so will you. It's not hard math."
Wait- what did she say?
"Hold on," he puts his hands up, defensively. "Did you just say that they came here trying to recruit you?""Yes," she folds her arms. "Of course they did. I'm good at what I do, and I've been researching the swallow." Kim pulls himself to his tallest height. "Maybe you should start from the beginning, Ms. Luukanen-Kilde," he suggests. "What exactly happened, the first time they visited you?""We can talk while I work," she steps around them, and begins to make her way back toward the stained glass.
"The first time they visited, I don't think they were expecting anyone to be here. It was just a couple of scientists in uniform. They interrogated me and those club kids about the swallow," she explains. "I told them about my data and asked that they leave me alone, to work."Harry hurries to follow her, not wanting to miss any part of her tale. His partner is half a step behind him."They came back a few times, first to ask me about my research, and then to try to talk all of us into leaving. When that didn't work, they returned with armed soldiers," she recites it quickly, wanting to get this over with, either from impatience or perhaps from trauma.
She holds herself well, but it doesn't mean that it didn't bother her.
"I'm sorry that happened," the detective says softly. They stop at her radiocomputer.
"You didn't leave, though," he adds. "That was brave."
It takes a lot of mettle to not flee from a loaded weapon.
She shakes her head. "No, I didn't. The kids did, but I told them I wasn't going to be chased out, that my research here was too important," she added. He can image the scene with clarity as she describes it. She did not flinch in the face of the guns. In fact she barely looked up from her computer. Just as they stand there speaking with her now, soldiers stood there threatening her life if she did not move."How were you able to convince them to let you stay?" Kim asks, raising a brow. If the Coalition military wants to evict someone, they can do so. Soona may be stubborn, but she is still an ordinary civilian."I promised to share results from my research," she says simply.It feels like a punch to the gut.
Pryce was right to urge you not to try to recruit her.

But didn't she say she didn't want anything to do with the war?
"I thought you said-" Harry can't get the words out before she's interrupting him again."I gave them a print-out of what I have learned so far," she explained, "in exchange for letting me stay here. I didn't agree to work for them, even though they have been pestering me. I don't want to get involved." She looks away from the computer screen to meet his eyes."How often have they been pestering you?" Kim asks her, his brows furrowed in concern."Every few days. They keep making bigger offers. I think they assumed I'm negotiating for higher compensation."
She's not.
 "Are you going to be okay here?" Harry feels a sudden discomfort at the idea of leaving her alone."I'll be fine. So far they have been an annoyance at most, and less than those speedfreaks were. At least they leave me in peace and quiet most of the time," she glances at him.
She is laying down a heavy hint.

Stubbornness alone isn't enough to survive a squad of soldiers.
He thinks of the bullet holes along the wall of the FELD building, maybe a hundred meters away, where workers were dragged out, lined up, and executed.
"Soona," he says carefully, "this is dangerous. We know some people who could help you-""I said no," she snaps. She's not gentle about it. "You're not going to pull me into a war by extorting me for protection.""Oh, no, that's not what I-" Harry is floundering."We're just concerned about you," Kim jumps in to try to smooth things over. "If you need assistance, call our office. We're the RCM, there are no strings attached," he promises. His tone is firm.
He believes in the RCM. He won't allow her to think of you like a mob.
He produces a business card and sets it on the edge of the computer's keyboard.
You should speak with Titus. Make sure that they're protecting this corner of Martinaise.
 "I'll call if I need to," she concedes. Just the fact that she is willing to give in to that much is a sign that things are serious, "but I am not leaving the church. I'm worried about what will happen, if I do.""What do you mean?" Harry asks her. "The swallow is growing either way, right? It's not like you're trying to stop it."She shakes her head. "No, I'm not interfering with it. But those military scientists seemed very interested in it. I think they want to evict me, or recruit me, so they can take control of research here."The hair is standing up on the back of his neck. 
The men in Pale suits gather around in a circle, comparing their notes. This test wasn't a failure, but it still isn't getting the results they are looking for.

If they had a naturally occurring source of the Pale, their work would be much easier.
 "That seems bad," he mumbles to himself. He wonders what in Elysium they are trying to do. Unfortunately, he and Jean didn't get much information before they were caught, and there's no way he will risk breaking in again. He might not get off so easy a second time, not with INSURCOM, and not with his lover either."Yes," she agrees emphatically. "That's what I think too. It seems bad.""It does," Kim nods along. "We will keep an eye on the situation as much as we are able," he reassures her. "Now, about the fire..." he tries to pull the subject back to the case at hand.
It's comforting to him, to just work on a criminal case, and not have to think about war.
"I really don't know anything about it," she tells them. "I went up to the bell tower to keep an eye on it last night, but when I saw the INSURCOM trucks and boats arrive, I went to bed. They seemed to have it under control.""Did you see or hear anything leading up to the fire last night?" The detective asks."I heard some sounds around the time I was getting ready for bed," she reports to him. "Loud banging sounds. That's when I went up to the bell tower and saw it."Kim scribbles down the notes. "Was there anyone new in the neighborhood recently?""I wouldn't really know," she shrugs with one shoulder. "I'm not exactly out there mixing with the locals."
The truth, sire, but you didn't need me to tell you that.
"So when you were in the bell tower... how was the swallow? Has it gotten much bigger?" He can't help but ask, and even if it isn't related to the case, the information feels important. He ignored the annoyed silence emanating from his partner, who was trying hard to move past all this supra-natural stuff."It is getting bigger," she says, "but the actual Pale emission point is much smaller than the swallow. The swallow is the area of effect." Soona taps on her keyboard, bringing up a display of numbers that the detective cannot hope to comprehend.
"It is still only the size of a pin head, and while it is growing quickly, I don't think that growth is actually exponential. We shouldn't expect the Pale emission point to became radically unstable in the next few years, at least."It is comforting to hear that, but he does pick up on the fact that she said 'the next few years' and not a longer stretch of time. Still... that means the apocalypse is a worry to put off until tomorrow, at least at the moment. "That's good to hear," he says."I believe the swallow works like a kind of reverse amphitheater," she goes on. "The place affected by the Pale is controlled by the architecture of this building, all centering on that spot," Soona gestures toward the middle of the church, where she has marked out in white chalk the borders of the phenomenon. She looks over her shoulder at the two of them again. "Now... is there anything else you needed from me?" Harry shakes his head, his mind heavy with the things Soona has shared. "I suppose not. I know my partner is itching for us to get back to work, anyway," he teases Kim a little, but a lot of the playfulness has been sucked from his tone by the heavy implications of the end of the world. "If you do think of anything, or learn anything-""Yes, yes," she says dismissively, "I'll call."He doesn't really want to leave her there. The detective looks upward into the darkness, where the swallow is. Images of what might happen to her keep running through his mind. Will she fall ill from the Pale? Will she be executed by the soldiers? Will she just fade away in this building, obsessively chasing her data forever?"Yes," Kim is agreeing, "we do need be on our way. Please be careful about pushing the Coalition forces too far. We don't want anything to happen to you, miss."
He nods toward the church door.
He's saying it's time to go.
"Yeah," he says. "Okay. Thanks again, Soona. You're the best." The woman is rough around the edges, but he means what he says. He finds her personality kind of endearing. As they head toward the church door, he glances over at his partner. "We should ask Titus to check in on her," he says quietly."I agree."

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Kim steps into the Whirling on the heels of his partner, looking for any sign of Titus Hardie. They saw him last night, helping to keep people organized during the fire, but there is no sign of him or any of his stooges in the light of day.

They must still be catching up on sleep.

A woman with long, straight, dirty blonde hair is standing at the bar, going over some papers. He doesn't recognize her.Harry immediately starts toward the woman with a friendly demeanor, the way he does with nearly everyone.
"Hey, hello there!" he greets her. "I'm Lieutenant-Yefreitor Harry Du Bois and this is-""I know." The woman interrupts him firmly, eying him with uncertainty and fear. "I remember."

Her voice is familiar.

"Huh?" the man blinks, taken aback."I'm sorry, Officer, I don't really want to talk to you right now," she adds, avoiding his eyes.The way she says those words in particular picks at the lieutenant's memory. She is eying his partner like he's a bomb about to go off, too.
He clears his throat. "Detective... allow me," he says."Um. Yeah, okay," the man seems realize that whatever is going on, he needs to allow him to take the reigns. He takes half a step back. "Good afternoon miss," Kim nods politely to the nervous looking woman. "It's Sylvie, right?" He offers his hand to shake hers, trying to put her at ease. "I'm Lieutenant Kitsuragi with the RCM. I was here working with Detective Du Bois for the hanged man case when he spoke with you on the phone, but, I don't believe we've actually met."Sylvie reaches out uncertainly, and shakes his hand. Her grip is kind of limp and awkward. "No, we haven't."
She seems more comfortable with him than she is with Harry, but, she is still on her guard, glancing at the man nervously.

This will be better if I take him out of the equation.

He's supposed to be on leave, anyway.

The urgency of the fire had spurred them both to act, but, now that there's an actual investigation going on, he should really involve his partner as little as possible. He'd learned the last time Harry was put on leave that the man wasn't good at actually staying away from the job, and if he doesn't pay attention, he can easily enable him.

I wouldn't be good at putting work down, either.

Kim looks over at his partner and meets his eyes, and then glances toward the nearby table, trying to hint to him. It's not surprising that the man is able to pick up his meaning based on expression alone, but he gives him a deeply pathetic look as he heads toward the tables. Normally, it would tempt him to take it back, but after the incident at the military base, he feels less sympathy. His leave is more than deserved.The lieutenant turns back to Sylvie, hoping she'll feel more at ease now. "We're here investigating the cause of the harbor fire," he explains to her. "I'm hoping to speak with Titus Hardie, have you seen him?""Well, I saw him last night," she says. "He and some of the other union boys were trying to keep things together... but I haven't seen him yet today."He reaches into his pocket for his notebook, and jots that down. "Mmhmm," he says, "and when did you come in to work?""Around dawn," she tells him. "I came to see what was going on, before then, but once I knew it was safe to open the Whirling, well... I figured people would need the rooms, you know?" Sylvie glances over toward where Harry is sitting at one of the tables."And what was it that made you notice the fire?" he asks her."I heard some explosions. I'm not totally sure how many. Four? Maybe five. So I went to my window and looked outside, and I saw a lot of smoke coming from this direction." The woman recounts the story as best she can. "I'm sorry, I really don't know anything else," she adds."I understand," he notes. "Well... if Titus comes in, let him know that we would like to speak with him, please."She nods. "Yes, I will. I imagine him and the others are getting some sleep. They had a long night."Kim nods in agreement. "We all did," he says. He feels that exhaustion in his bones, having only had a few hours of patchy sleep, himself.
He turns and looks, following the bartender's gaze to where his partner is sitting. "Don't worry about Harry," he says to her quietly. "He doesn't want to bother you.""Sure, yeah," she says, not sounding convinced of that. "I don't really want to talk about him," Sylvie adds, deflecting. "Was there anything else you needed, Officer?"He lets it go, getting the impression that trying to smooth things over will only accomplish the opposite.

He has hurt her, and now the best apology is to just leave her alone.

He asks her a few more questions, getting a rough timeline of her evening and where she was when she heard the explosions. She doesn't have an alibi for the time of the explosions, since she was alone in her apartment, but he has no reason to think she's a real suspect. Keeping a list of who is and is not accounted for at the time of a crime is just a well worn habit to him. Kim turns back toward his partner when he's finished, pocketing his notebook.The man is sitting at one of the tables, zoning out the way he sometimes does. He's looking slightly upward, but his eyes seem like they are unfocused.After a moment, the lieutenant clears his throat.The detective snaps out of his contemplation. "Oh, you're done," he says. "Learn anything?""No, not really," he frowns a little. "She doesn't know anything, and the Hardie boys haven't been seen since last night. I'm going to go see if the harbor is open now."Harry gets to his feet, ready to go with him. "Good call," he agrees. "Hopefully there's still a crime scene under all that fire damage."

It will be a challenging scene to assess, even for him.

In the back of his mind, he thinks the proper thing to do is to give Harry his keys, and encourage him to catch up on more sleep. He deserves rest after sitting up all morning in the front seat, and besides that, he should try to keep him away from duty as much as he can now that the emergency has passed. But the truth is, he needs the detective's spatial reasoning skills.

Police work requires bending the rules sometimes.

Are you saying that to justify what you want to do, over what you're supposed to do?

"Hopefully," he agrees, keeping his thoughts to himself. The lieutenant falls into step behind his partner as they make their way out of the Whirling-in-Rags. They head down the street, past the Frittte and toward the harbor.
The gate is open now, but the only traffic going in and out seems to be flat trucks, hauling wreckage from the bombing. Beyond it, they can see the stacked up shipping containers.In spite of the drama of the fire, most of the containers close to the wall are actually still intact; lightly charred, but otherwise untouched. Deeper in, however, a number the containers look crinkled like balls of paper, twisted and black.

Like a god reached down and wadded them up in their giant hand.

At his side, Harry lets out a long, low whistle as he takes in the sight of the harbor. "Bloody hell," he remarks. "I knew it wasn't going to be pretty, but, this is something else."The smell of charred metal and aerosolized chemicals hangs around them. Kim takes a moment to pause and wipe his glasses clean, collecting himself. "I expected severe damage," he nods, "but seeing it is still..." he isn't sure how to end the sentence.

Terrifying.

Impressive.

Luckily he doesn't have to come up with a word. His partner nods along with him, understanding.The detective's eyes scan the harbor, taking in the layout of it. The last time they were here, it was very difficult to get the lay of the land with all the containers stacked up tall. Now, with half of them broken and burnt, the bones of the place are revealed. They can even see the water in a few places.
"We should get as close as we can to the worst looking spots," he points to one of the twisted, collapsing piles of metal. "Those probably burned the hottest for the longest. They might be our bomb locations." Kim nods in agreement, and the two of them get started. It's a long slog of walking back and forth across the harbor, climbing over debris, and trying to get close to the places bombs could have been planted. They pass many dock workers on the way, all of whom are helping to clean the place up, but none of the Hardie Boys seem to be among them.

They are contaminating the crime scene.

No one in Revachol can afford for the harbor to stay closed, though.

Most evidence was likely incinerated anyway.

He's not sure if it will do harm to allow them to keep working or not, and so the lieutenant just keeps an eye on the crowd while his partner looks for the bomb locations. They are approaching cleanup methodically, starting with the area closest to the gate and road, so that they can bring trucks and tools in to help as they get deeper in. None of the workers seem to be breaking from the crowd, or behaving as if they are trying to cover anything up.Given some time, Harry identifies the five most likely places that explosives were planted. It's impossible to say for certain, when everything is so destroyed, but each location would have been accessible from the ground, or by making use of the stairs and ladders which are common throughout the harbor."I thought this could be an inside job," he admits as he watches his partner carefully examines the last of his potential bomb spots, "but it seems like anyone would have had access."

That expands the pool of possible suspects by quite a bit.

The detective finishes assessing the site, and gets to his feet. He wipes some soot off his his hands, onto his trousers. "The problem with it being an inside job is... why? I'm pretty sure Evrart is the only one who would get anything out of it."

Eliminating that possibility should be priority one.

Before he can answer, a voice calls out from somewhere behind him.
"Hey! Officers! Over here!" The person's tone sounds surprisingly light for the situation.He turns around and looks up toward the direction of the voice, shielding his eyes from the sunlight. Standing on one of the intact shipping containers is someone he recognizes.

'Easy Leo,' the union man.

"Good afternoon," he greets, making no attempt to approach. He is still waiting for Harry to finish climbing out of the wreckage."Good afternoon!" Leo greets in return. "It's great to see you again," he smiles. "I haven't seen you since the spring, but I did hear you came back into town a few weeks back," he goes on. "I was sorry to have missed you. The missus made pork ribs that night. Have you ever had pork ribs?""Yes, I have." He glances back over at Harry, who is still making his way through the rubble."Not like she makes," the union man assures him with a shake of his head. "She has this great barbeque sauce recipe. It's been in her family for ages, it has.""Unfortunately we don't have time to enjoy any ribs today," he says, trying to keep the conversation short and dissuade any further entanglement."Oh, right yeah," Leo nods. "I don't either, I've got to get helping with all this cleanup. But Mr. Claire mentioned he wanted to see you both, and seeing as how we hadn't seen each other since spring I volunteered to fetch you, and say hello," he says. The hair on the back the lieutenant's neck stands up at the mention of the mob boss's name, and he squares his shoulders a little bit. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees his partner finally joining him.

Seeing Evrart is probably a bad idea, after last time.

Harry admitted right to his face that we were trying to play him.

His partner shifts his weight from foot to foot, also a little nervous at the implications. "What does he want?" He asks, trying to sound casual."I don't reckon I know," Leo shrugs. "Probably wants your help tracking down who did all this though," he gestures toward the destroyed harbor. "I mean, whoever it is, they probably cost us a fortune. I bet Mr. Claire is wishing we stayed on White Pines payroll now. Don't get me wrong! I think going private a was a great idea, but we're small time compared to them. I don't think the Union has the money to handle something like this.""I'm sure he has insurance," Kim says dismissively.
He lowers his voice a little so he can speak to Harry with some semblance of privacy. "What do you think, Detective?" He asks with trepidation."Do we really have a choice?" His partner answers. "No way Evrart isn't furious about this. Maybe he'll let last time go, if he's weakened that much. He'll need us to close the case."

I don't like this.

"I think we've become far too comfortable dealing with him," the lieutenant pushes back. "It's not a good look for the RCM."Harry nods in understanding, thinking that over. "Well, I'm supposed to be on leave," he points out. "So right now, I'm not RCM. Just a good citizen.""Absolutely not," he shuts that idea down right away."Shouldn't we at least find out what he wants, though?" His partner asks.

More information is always better, when dealing with men like him.

"Fine," he sighs, resigned. "But you're waiting outside. I will handle this."
He looks back up at Leo. "Would you please point us toward his office?"The union man sits down on the edge of the shipping crate. "oh yeah, it just got moved back over this morning," he tells him. "Just up this ladder behind me, and then to the left." He points toward it.Kim begins to move toward the ladder with long, purposeful strides, trying to escape Leo before he is pulled into more conversation.
Thankfully, his partner dallies behind him, chatting with the man, since he has to wait on him anyway. Evrart's office is sitting a few containers above, waiting for him. It must have been craned away to safety during the fire, because it is not even so much as singed. It seemed suspicious to Kim, but it's not outright incriminating on its own. The man is known for taking advantage of his power, and he's smart enough to know a move like that will bring scrutiny.For the first time ever, the lieutenant steps into the shipping container alone. He moves up the steps and into the little room... but Evrart is not seated at his desk the way he usually is. From the partitioned section deeper inside the container, he can hear movement.
While he waits, he looks around the room. There are some papers on the desk, but he is not foolish enough to risk being caught snooping, after how things were handled with Claire last time. He can't make out what the files are from where he's standing, either.
He clears his throat to announce his presence, standing more or less at attention, with his hands clasped behind his back.He can feel the vibration of the union boss walking, before he emerges from behind the curtain. Beyond it, a small living area is briefly visible.

With all the money he embezzles, you'd think he'd live with a little more excess.

There is a certain kind of rich person who tends to live below their means.

It's good optics for the union workers, too.

"Ah, Kisturagi!" Evrart grins as he greets them. His smile is even more unsettling than usual.Kim doesn't allow his apprehension to show on his face. "Good afternoon, Mr. Claire," he greets in a neutral tone."So glad you decided to drop in to see me," the man sits behind his desk. "When I heard about how you boys helped last night, I just had to thank you in person. Where is Harry? He was here too." It isn't a question."Harry is not available, but I will pass on your gratitude," he assures him."I suppose he's embarrassed over the little joke you two pulled on me last time," Evrart says cheerfully. "Well, tell him there's no need to worry. I'm a man of fantastic humor, and if last night proved anything, it's that we can put aside our differences in a time of need." There's something about his tone that Kim struggles to parse out. He doesn't believe for a moment that he has actually let their manipulation go, but, the man might be sincerely grateful for their help. He can't tell.
"Of course," he says smoothly. "We're the RCM, it's our job to help. It's unfortunate that Martinaise has slipped through the cracks for so many years, but we don't intend to let that be the case anymore.""So I see," the man nods. "Rest assured that it doesn't go unnoticed, especially after something terrible like this happens. I trust that's why you're still in town: to look into who is responsible for this attack, right?"

Ah. He is fishing for our help in this matter.

"We have opened an investigation, yes," the lieutenant affirms. There's no harm in sharing that much, and any lie would be comically obvious anyway. "I intend to find the arsonist and charge them. Any information you have would be helpful. I assume that's why you had Leo fetch me?"Claire puts his hands up behind his head, trying to take on a more relaxed posture, even though his body still looks a little stiff. "Of course! I noticed you boys sniffing around the wreckage, and thought it would be to our mutual benefit to share information." He reaches into his pocket for his notebook. "I agree," he says dryly.
"Unfortunately we don't have much to share yet," he adds. "We are still determining the exact events of last night." Even if they had learned anything interesting, he wouldn't be inclined to actually share much with Evrart. He only intends to share what he legally has to disclose to him, as the leader of the Débardeurs."No, I don't either," the man admits with a thoughtful hum. "We're still looking through the wreckage ourselves, but rest assured, any information we find will go straight to you. I'm assuming that will work both ways?"

Maybe Harry's gaff last time we visited wasn't so dire. He's treating us more like equals now.

Is that safer? Or more dangerous?

"What I can share is determined by RCM policy," he says cautiously, "but rest assured, I'll share everything you need to know." RCM officers, especially of his rank, have the authority to share information with useful witnesses, but Kim feels petty and disinclined to work with the man. He wants to keep their relationship as perfunctory as possible.Evrart probably knows that, too.The man's smile never falters, his lazy eye making it unsettlingly difficult to figure out exactly where he's looking. "Splendid," he says, his disappointment just barely poking through.
"Well, even if your investigation isn't going well so far, I may have something useful for you," he adds, trying to dig at him a little bit. "I was speaking with those INSURCOM troops who came to put out the flames," he goes on, "lovely boys, by the way, and they told me that they think this was intentional." He says it as if he is scandalized. It feels incredibly patronizing."Yes," he agrees flatly. "That much is clear. Did they have a theory for who was behind it? When I spoke with them, they told me they didn't know." The way Evrart went out of his way to praise the soldiers' characters doesn't escape his notice."The men I spoke with said they suspected it was terrorist activity," he says. "Communist insurgents making a statement by blowing up a symbol of capital. I told him that's quite impossible of course," he adds. "The new ICM may be all Mazrovians and homo-sexuals, but the Union is a good socialist organization. They wouldn't come after us."The specific choice of words makes the hair on the back of his neck stand upright, and he is suddenly very glad that he came in here without Harry.
"The whole neighborhood knows he's a communard," Soona motioned toward Harry, her tone of voice saying it as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

He wasn't exactly subtle about being bi-sexual when we were here this spring, either.

Evrart is laying the groundwork for blackmail over both of us.

"Well, I wouldn't know anything about that," he says reflexively. Years of being an RCM officer has given him plenty of practice at dodging accusations about his sexuality.

Two can play this game.

Shoulders square, head up, voice steady. All I need to do is maintain control over this conversation.

"Anyway, this was a sizable loss for you, wasn't it, Mr. Claire?" He asks, looking at him over the top of his notebook."It was," he admits. "We are properly insured of course," he adds, "but that insurance money isn't going to pay for all the opportunities we're going to lose while we rebuild. This is bad for business."

He knows what I'm trying to build up to.

And he's cutting off the insurance fraud theory at the root.

He will need to do some digging in the office to determine who Evrart has policies with, in order to actually rule out the man as a suspect, but his instincts tell him that he shouldn't waste too much time on it. The scale of the destruction is so massive, that it would only make sense if he was intending to take the money and close the harbor, rather than rebuild it.

Competing with La Puta Madre in the drug trade is ultimately more lucrative than a single insurance payout.

Unless he is being driven from the business, and this is a scheme to cut his losses and get out.

"Of course," the lieutenant says, jotting down his errant thoughts in shorthand, for later consideration. "I'm interested in your suspicions," he adds. "Do you know of anyone who might have motive to bomb your harbor?"Silence settles for a moment over them as the man thinks it over
"The Union has plenty of enemies, but I suspect gang activity. Maybe Madre feels like our pharmaceutical trade is a threat to his monopoly.""Really?" he raises a brow. "Why do you say that? It's my understanding that the Débardeurs have kept gang activity down in the area.""We have, of course," Mr. Claire makes a dismissive motion with his hand. "But a man like Madre has far reach. We're a dockworker's union, not a police force. There's only so much we can do."He doesn't buy the pathetic act for a single moment. If anything, it always leaves him more unsettled when Evrart downplays his strength and influence.
"Why not White Pines? They must be angry that you stole the harbor out from under them.""Now, now, I didn't steal anything. Your partner should be able to tell you, this harbor rightfully belongs to the men who work it. I just... facilitated the return of control over the asset." His tone is syrupy and smooth."Of course," he says in a flat tone, not buying the man's wannabe socialist rhetoric for a single moment."Anyway, I only bring it up because our new night watchman caught a young woman sneaking around a few nights ago," Evrart tells them. "A young lady named Cindy. She moved to the neighborhood a few months back. Charming girl, but she's known to be involved with rough customers."His eyebrow goes up on its own, even though he's trying to keep his face neutral.

The SKULLS aren't known for this kind of activity.

They're responsible for petty vandalism like graffito, the terrorizing of chain businesses, siphoning government fuel, and spreading communist propaganda.

Many of them are involved with drugs individually, but they aren't a branch of Madre's influence as a whole.

"Really?" he asks. "This seems unusual for SKULL activity, but I will follow up with her," he promises. "Thank you for the tip, Mr. Claire." He doesn't feel like thanking him, but minding his manners with a mob boss never hurts. "Is there anything else you can tell me?" He asks."Not yet," he promises, "but you'll be the first to know if anything comes up," the man sounds all too pleased with how things have gone. Kim tucks the notebook back in his pocket and turns to exit the box car. He can see his partner hovering outside, eavesdropping. He mouths something to him.

Soona.

He doesn't like the idea of asking favors from Evrart, but he likes the idea of allowing INSURCOM to continue harassing the programmer even less.
The lieutenant turns back. "Before I go... Coalition soldiers have been pestering residents in the fishing village.""Have they?" Evrart leans forward slightly in his chair, interested. It seems that he didn't know about this earlier.He nods, "Particularly the church, where there are a few residents staying. Maybe you can have Titus check in on them every now and then?" Making nice to the man leaves a bad taste in his mouth."I trust my men to look out for their neighbors," the mob boss makes a dismissive motion with his hand, "but I can't have them going up against the military. They have the authority to go wherever they like. Besides, if it weren't for them, my harbor would still be on fire."

They wouldn't have turned up to help, if Harry hadn't had called them.

But he doesn't know that.

We might have pushed one enemy right into the good graces of another.

He balls his hand up into a fist at his side, hand. His gloves only do so much to cushion his hand from his fingers digging in at his palm.
In spite of that tension though, his face and voice are steady as he speaks. "Of course. I'm not suggesting you go against them, but armed guards pestering people does make them nervous."Evrart nods in false agreement. "Of course. I'll speak with INSURCOM about the situation."

That isn't what I asked for.

He doesn't thank him.
The silence hangs over both of them for a moment, before the union man decides it's time for the meeting to be over."Well, it's a pleasure as always, Kisturagi," he says. "I've got a lot to do, as you can imagine. Let me know what you find out when you interview that SKULL girl.""Good day, Mr. Claire," he says, without promising to follow up about Cindy. He makes his way out of the shipping container. Harry is waiting for him just outside, hanging nearby the entrance. He turns and heads toward the ladder, waiting until they're out of earshot of the container to speak.
"How did it go?" he asks. "I only heard about half of it.""I'm concerned that we've misplayed our hand," Kim tells him. There are dock workers around, cleaning up the wreckage, but they can still speak with some privacy because of the wind. "He seems to be sympathetic to INSURCOM because of their role in extinguishing the fire."The detective grimaces. "I wish we hadn't called them," he says bitterly.
The frustration he felt having to make that call had been plain as day at the time.

This likely makes that anguish worse.

Kim is not sure how he feels about it all. Getting backup from them felt like the right call in the moment. It probably saved the lives and homes of many people, too, but now they may have set Evrart Claire up to side with the Coalition.

They're taking advantage of the situation to cement an alliance with him.

It makes sense. If they help him save his harbor, they don't have to fight to control it.

"I admit, I didn't see this outcome," he says. "I expected Claire to remain neutral, given how much he claims to have socialist leanings."Harry snorts. "Mazrov warned us about people like him," he says. "He's not a true communist, he's just using the trappings of it to enrich himself. He's an Ultraliberal, at best."They pass by another group of dock workers, hard at work moving burnt debris. A lot of the rubble is just being pushed into the water of the harbor, rather than loaded up to be dumped elsewhere.

That can't be good for the environment.

"I suppose you're right," he remarks. "So you didn't get anything good out of him?" Harry asks."Well, I don't know if it's a good lead, but apparently Cindy the SKULL was found loitering in the harbor a couple of nights ago," he says. "I would like to go interview her next.""Cindy?" The detective frowns. "Naw, she wouldn't do this, would she, Kim?"He doesn't understand the easy, paternal affection that Harry seems to have for the girl, given how hostile she is toward them.
"Cindy is a gang member, certainly capable of violence," he counters. "We cannot rule her out, especially if she's been trespassing in the area recently."His partner shakes his head firmly. "No, she's an artist," he counters. "If she did this, she would have taken credit somehow. Signed her name, you know?"

Metaphorically.

"We should go and speak with her, regardless," he says. "Even if she is not our suspect, if she's been hanging around the harbor at night she may know something.""Yeah, I guess," Harry doesn't sound enthused about it."INSURCOM also told him that they suspect ICM operatives, if you prefer that angle?" He suggests, sarcastically.
They pass by the Frittte again. There's a line outside of it full of people waiting to buy groceries, ration books in hand."He probably just said that to get under your skin, if there's already rumors that we're with them," the detective counters.

No. He meant it.

"I don't think he was lying. I do believe that it's what INSURCOM told him," Kim says, "but it's a possibility we can rule out quickly with a call to the captain. I will also double check Evrart's insurance filings and see if anything doesn't add up.""That's where I'm putting my money," Harry says. "He's slippery and clever. I bet he oversold the value when he incorporated the new company.""I'm not so sure," the lieutenant hums. As much as he would love to get the man on insurance fraud, it just doesn't seem smart to run such a scam on a business that is the heart of his operation. "So if it's not us, obviously, and it's not Claire, then who's your top suspect?" His partner asks. "And don't say Cindy.""It's too early to say," Kim shakes his head, not willing to make a guess just yet. "I believe if the 'social club' was going to make any moves, Pryce would have informed us. Evrart is a possibility, of course, but if it's him, than there's something we're missing. It just doesn't make sense with the information we have so far. As for Cindy... arson on this scale is not the SKULL gang's usual activity."
His eyes fall to the tyre marks, where the Coalition vehicles were parked in front of the Whirling.

Harbors are often points of interest in war, and Terminal B would be a logical point of entry, to get a foothold into GRIH.

"So you think it's INSURCOM," Harry concludes, as if he has read his mind.Even understanding their shared entroponetic condition, it still unnerves Kim when his partner is able to guess his thoughts with such accuracy."I'm not prepared to say that," he corrects firmly. "We don't know enough to eliminate anyone from the suspect list yet." The two of them fall silent as they pass by some other people, rounding the corner by Crime, Romance, and Biographies of Famous People. They're both walking on a kind of auto-pilot, just making their way to the roof where Cindy was hanging out in the spring.It wasn't visible before, but from this angle they can see that the roof of Capeside is half blown open. The fire must have reached the coal room, causing one of the explosions that they heard later into the night."Oh..." Harry stops in his tracks, looking up at the devastation.

Cindy was squatting in that coal room.

We forgot about her.

In their hurry to evacuate the building, neither of them remembered that Cindy was living up there. If she was sleeping in the coal room when the fire reached it, than there is no way she could have survived."Maybe her gang activities kept her up at night," he suggests quietly.

Or if she is responsible after all, maybe she fled.

Both of those thoughts are preferable to the idea that their negligence killed a homeless young woman.
They haven't confirmed it, not yet, but the weight of that failure falls over him pre-emptively. It seeps into his lungs, as if he is drowning in bitter rainwater.Harry is still at his side, looking up at the devastation and no doubt feeling the same hollow sting. He liked Cindy. The detective really is one of the toughest people that Kim has ever met. He has been lifting himself up, moment by moment, from a low so overwhelming that it nearly ended him. He relapses, but he keeps trying. He endured the sight of Ruby's suicide, and was still holding it together for the gunfight that same night.
The lieutenant is certain, therefore, that if they go upstairs and find Cindy's body, Harry would recover. He would endure. He would carry on, just like he always does.

But I would do anything to spare him that trauma.

I will take it on myself. He doesn't deserve to go through that.

"I'll go," he says softly, setting his hand on the man's bicep.Harry shakes his head, "I can go with you," he insists. "I just... I hope she's okay.""No," Kim says, gentle but firm. His voice is less professional now, more reminiscent of the tones he uses when they are alone together.
"I'll go," he insists again. "You wait here for me, I'll only be a moment."His boyfriend doesn't keep trying to fight him. He drifts to a bench nearby and sits down on it. "Okay. But call for me, if you find her," he insists.

I'm deciding that means 'if you find her alive.'

"I will," he promises. Kim leaves his partner at the waterfront, and enters the back door of Capeside. The ground floor is entirely intact, but as he climbs to the second floor, and then the third, he begins to see signs of damage.He hesitates at the bottom of the last leg of steps, looking up at bright light pouring in from the door, which has been blown open. Seeing it now, he can place in his mind some of the sounds he heard last night, during the evacuation.With each step, his imagination serves up a new image of what he might encounter when he reaches the top- but none of them are reminiscent of the visions he gets from the Pale. He tries to take that as a positive omen.

Maybe the door is open because she left it open when she evacuated.

The thought passes through his mind, but he dismisses it immediately. The door is hanging half off of its hinges, clearly having been hit with the force of a full explosion.Once he reaches the roof proper, he finds himself carefully stepping around chunks of stone and rubble that were blown from the wall of the coal room. Some of the coal is still giving off heat.

Certain types of coal can burn for days.

Is this safe?

No.

'Safe' is kind of relative.

He approaches the gaping hole where the wall used to be, ears straining over the wind for any signs of life. Perhaps a voice calling for help from the rubble, or the sound of someone trying to dig herself out.

Don't kid yourself, Kisturagi. If she was here, she is dead. You are looking for a corpse.

Carefully, he picks his way deeper into the remains of the coal room. The floor of it has fallen through entirely, underneath the furnace; if she was asleep in bed, her body might have fallen to the apartment below.He takes his time, searching the rubble up here, and the apartment directly below, for any sign of the young woman's body. To his relief, he doesn't find her. He notices a conspicuous absence of her things as well, including all the art supplies in the little 'studio' where Harry met with his communist student friends.Wherever Cindy is now, he feels confident that she moved her things out ahead of time, and wasn't in the building last night. Kim returns to where his partner is waiting for him, on the bench.Harry turns and looks over his shoulder when he hears him approaching. His face is drawn up in concern. "Anything?" he asks.The lieutenant shakes his head. "There is a lot of damage, but I couldn't find any sign that she is still living there. I think she had already moved out before the fire," he reports.The look on the detective's face matches his own sense of relief, but the feeling is short lived. As much as he suspects that Evrart may have other reasons for sending them after Cindy, if she was responsible for the bombings, it would make sense for her to evacuate after placing the bombs. Basing suspicion on the movements of a squatter, however, seems thin at best."We can ask around, then, maybe someone has seen her?" Harry suggests.He nods in agreement, and looks at his watch. It's mid-afternoon now, with them having slept most of the morning away, and then spending several hours at the harbor. "I think we should stop and eat," he remarks. "Then we can try to hunt her down."Neither of them have had enough sleep in the last twenty four hours, and as they walk toward the Whirling to try to find something to eat, Kim can't shake the feeling it will be another full day before they have a hope of getting any real rest.