Disclaimer: Wolf Films owns them.
Every single one of those reasons would be utter bullshit.
Honestly? I have no idea why I'm doing this. He told me to call him, not vice versa. Ed's a proud man, just as I am--that's one of the non-bullshit reasons I'm sitting here. Pride cuts into things, makes life difficult. If I didn't have pride, I'd probably be dialing his number right now. My pride's important to me--my reputation, my job--they're all built from my pride. I'm too proud to take simple deals; that's why I have a high conviction rate. I'm too proud to let a witness fall apart on the stand. I'm too proud to have an inept lawyer work with me. I'm too proud to ask the man I--well, let's just leave it at the man I kissed--I'm too proud to ask him for a second chance.
And really, there's no reason I should get a second chance. I've gone through my excuses for backing away and shot them all down. Too young? Nah. Too cop? Definitely not. Too male? Hasn't stopped me before. Too black? That couldn't possibly matter to me.
The one question I continue to find standing in my way is this: "What do I want?"
I'm not the type to have a one-night stand with a colleague. Rather, I'm no longer the type to do something like that. I tell myself I'll do what he wants, but what if he's looking for a relationship? For commitment? Almost worse--what if what he's looking for is only a one-night stand? Maybe I want something more than that.
Jesus Christ, all I did was kiss the guy-I didn't ask for all this emotional baggage to go along with it.
You know what? Fuck pride. I'm going to call him, and yes, I'm going to ask for a second chance. If I don't deserve it? Fine. He can tell me so, I'll hang up the phone, and we'll continue our professional relationship like this never happened.
I glance at the numbers scribbled on the back of his card, then quickly dial his apartment.
"Hey, this is Ed. I'm out right now, so leave a message."
I let out an exasperated sigh and wait for the tone. "Ed, this is Jack. I'm--I'm really sorry." There goes a good two-thirds of any pride I had. "I'd like a second chance. I'm--god, I'm sorry." And that's the last third. "Give me a call back; I really want to try and work this out. It--it means kind of a lot." Apparently I'm now in the negative-pride zone. "G'bye." I hit the power button on my phone and dig the heels of my hands into my eyes, relishing the pain and the ache.
God, what have I gone and gotten myself into?
On to Part XI, Ed's POV, by Cassatt
Rating: PG-13
Summary: McCoy.
Copyright June, 2003, Tobias Charity
Right now, there are a hundred thousand reasons I could give you for why I'm sitting on my couch, staring at my phone, and mentally willing it to ring.