Ten minutes later, the phone rang again. This time Alex didn’t even open her eyes. She simply picked up the receiver and dropped it back to its base.
Five minutes later the alarm went off. Alex rolled off the bed and dragged herself to the dresser. She slapped at the clock until it was finally silent, then sat on the floor, knees against her chest, arms around her knees, her head resting on her forearms.
At precisely one o’clock there was a loud knock from the corridor. Alex stumbled as she got to her feet, finally opening the door after fiddling with the locks for several moments. She stood aside as David, looking rumpled but alert, entered. He was carrying his briefcase and some folders.
“Morning, Alex. Ready to go back to work?”
David dropped his briefcase on the small table, then turned to meet the sleepy gaze of his partner. He barely stifled the chuckle that threatened to erupt. It was obvious that Alex had not woken up yet, and she stood glaring at him with eyes half-lidded. She wore only a pair of sweats and a tank top, and her hair stuck straight up as if at least that part of her was at attention. For some reason, the sight reminded David of a fuzzy-haired troll. He kept that observation to himself, realizing that, at least for the moment, his partner would not be receptive to his unique sense of humor.
Alex, for her part, kept up the stony silence as she flopped gracelessly into the chair beside the small hotel table. Her eyes stayed on David, blinking rapidly. She was about to ask him if he hadn’t forgotten something when there was a knock at the door.
It was room service, with the promised lunch. Alex let the smell of hamburgers and french fries fill her lungs. She reached for one of the cokes that sat on the tray. After downing half of it in a few swift gulps, she leaned back in her chair watching David sign the check.
The two of them had an agreement between them. On days when they had to be up early, David would present himself at her place at the appointed time, knowing Alex wouldn’t be close to wakefulness. He’d bring caffeine, and sometimes donuts — or, at times like this, a full meal. In return, Alex would do him the courtesy of not speaking until she had food and caffeine happily floating in her body. That way, Alex received the necessities that brought her alert, and David could avoid the foul temper that plagued Alex while waking up.
It didn’t take long until both agents were tucking into their meals. As they did so, Alex took the opportunity to really look at her partner. His short black hair, which he kept about the length of his finger, was never out of place. Clean shaven, as most Asian American men are, he looked like he’d just gotten out of college, though Alex knew he was much older, nearly five years her senior. His eyes, deep and black, could show their age and experience when David let down his guard. It wasn’t something he did often — normally only around his partner and his wife.
Alex remembered how uncomfortable it had been when Miri, David’s wife, found out her husband’s FBI partner was another female. It had taken several long talks between the two before she came to grips with the situation. After Miri had adjusted to the idea of a female agent as her husband’s partner, David and Alex had let her in on the secret: Alex was gay.
At first, Miri had looked shocked. Then she had smiled, and just said, “Cool.” It had been Alex’s turn to be surprised.
Alex could remember when she’d first been approached about joining the FBI, and how worried she’d been about their reaction to her sexual orientation. After graduating from Northwestern University with a Bachelor’s in Sociology she’d had to choose between work and graduate school. Finally choosing Duke University, she’d graduated in 1994 from their Master’s in Sociology program. Her final thesis, on hate crimes and their perpetrators, had been enough to place her back in the running for the Academy, which she had entered in January of 1995.
Although physically small, Alex had worked hard all her life to make up for what others saw as her only handicap. At five feet, five inches, she was the shortest person in her class at the Academy, and she’d had to take quite a few jokes from her fellow students. After holding her own in most of the physical tests, Alex had finally gained the full respect of her classmates during an inter-Academy kickboxing tournament. She’d gone through the early rounds with no problem, reaching the final against a man nearly a foot taller than she was. Although being beaten, with a split lip, a cut over her eye, and a cracked rib, she’d managed to stay on her feet for the entire match— the only one of the champ’s opponents to do so. After that, there were no more wisecracks about her size.
She’d gone on to a job in Records and Research, spending two years helping track criminals on paper. Every six months she had put in for transfer to Special Agent status, but it had taken until late ninety-seven for her to be awarded the position of field agent. David Wu, who graduated from the Academy two years ahead of her, had been named her partner. The two of them had worked together before; David and his former partner Kevin had met Alex when searching for clues in a file cabinet seized in a drug raid. Using Alex’s combination of logic and intuition to make sense of the patterns in the coded files, the two agents had been able to join with DEA agents to take down a drug ring operating in Chicago. This had resulted in promotions for both of them. Kevin had been promoted to a desk position in the Chicago office, while David went from Chicago to Washington. Knowing Alex wanted field work, David had requested her as his new partner. In the four years the two agents had known each other, there had been no one foolish enough to cast aspersions on Alex because of her ‘secret’ sexual orientation.
The secret wasn’t really a secret, she supposed. It wasn’t like she was in the closet. Cliff, her immediate supervisor, was well aware of her preferences, as was her partner, his former partner, the desk chief, and all the guys in her class at the Academy. She had even been acknowledged as a lesbian by a senior agent with thirty years experience. He didn’t like it, thought “all that queer stuff” was perverted, but he did respect her for her talents and her abilities. Alex’s favorite memory of her time in the FBI records department was hearing this legendary agent tell someone else that Alex was “a damn fine agent — even if she is a dyke.” Even David had had to grin about it.
After that, her sexuality had never been an issue. Cliff had even called her into his office, right after she’d been assigned to the hate crimes unit, and told her that he didn’t care. As long as she kept her preferences and her politics out of her career, he’d have no problem with her. Since then there’d been a few comments, but nothing serious. Mostly, it had been local police who’d given Alex grief.
Alex was brought back to the present by David clearing his throat. He had finished his burger and was slowly eating his fries, dipping them first in the pool of ketchup on his plate. He had noticed that his partner seemed far away. Normally she ate as quickly, and as much, as he did, her energy level not allowing her small portions or long slow meals. Once awake, Alex was almost never still.
But she was as still as she could be right now, and David watched her quietly. He was worried about her. In their years as partners he had never thought anything would dampen the enthusiasm, or the spirits of his idealistic partner. No matter what kind of situation they had been in, she’d always been ready to give him a brilliant grin, or a thumbs up, to let him know she could handle it. But in the last few weeks, those grins had faded in frequency and wattage.
He knew Miri was worried about Alex as well. They both considered the younger woman a close friend, and they’d had her over for dinner often. She’d been holding one of Miri’s hands when the couple’s daughter had been born. To them, she was more a member of the family than simply a colleague of David’s.