Chris got out of the water and propped herself up on the edge to sit on it, keeping her feet in the warmth of Ben's pool and draping a nearby towel over her shoulder. It had been too long since she just came over and enjoyed herself.
Her gaze wandered until she found Deacon and his wife engrossed in deep conversation with Emilia, Anna dozing off in her mother's arms. Last she saw them, Deacon's kids were inside watching a Disney movie after a small tantrum that had confused Anna, who didn't want to watch the movie with the other kids.
Then, she found Hicks and his son who didn't talk at all. It was the same as usual, even if Chris had only heard about it and had never seen it play out in front of her. As luck would have it, JP stood up and walked away as Chris was looking at the pair. Hicks raised a hand but kept quiet in the end without calling for his son.
It was a miracle that he had managed to get his son to come. It would have been even more unbelievable if JP had stayed for much longer.
There weren't many people that had the time to come today on such short notice, but the few others who were here genuinely cared for Ben and came to toast him for his newest totally deserved medal he received a day earlier. From the picture she had sent Tan, Luca, Hondo, and Street earlier, they all already regretted not finding the time to come. Annie and Zofia had prepared a feast for everyone.
"What are you thinking about?" Ben asked as he appeared behind her, dressed in swim trunks and an unbuttoned flowery shirt. His side faintly poking out if he moved just right looked ghastly, but he had already told everyone that not having a tight shirt brush against his ribs constantly was more comfortable.
And it was his house. Running around half-naked was his right. Especially if he looked like he did after constant training and a high-stakes job that kept him either fit or dead.
"Life is good," Chris replied with a sagely nod.
Ben forcefully nudged her back into the pool with his foot when he heard her answer.
*Pfft,* spitting out some water, Chris tossed her wet towel to the side and gave Ben a death glare but her friend only returned an upturned-nose-look - his signature look of mock superiority.
"Life is great when you live in a mansion with a pool, huh?"
Chris replied with a middle finger.
Ben gasped, held a hand to his heart and chided in a purposefully loud whisper filled with righteous indignation, "There are children present!"
Chris raised a second middle finger.
The detective winked at her and walked over to Hicks, handing him the beer he was holding. The bottle in his other hand was just a fruity soda. Ben had sworn off alcohol for the foreseeable future after what happened with Baptiste and the bombs he brought.
"It was nice of JP to come," Ben commented, his gaze following Hicks' to where the son of the commander had just left.
"Would have been nicer if he stayed after getting that free food or if he had talked to anyone," Hicks dryly but reproachfully rebuffed.
After a long silence between the two, the commander continued, "He came so that he could tell his sister the day after tomorrow that he made an effort. I guess I'll remain the bad guy even for this visit."
"I doubt it will be quite as one-sided," Ben reassured after a sip of his drink. "Both of your kids will see that you are putting in the effort. They are both adults now. It's no longer just on you to mend the rifts Barbara's passing brought along. Eventually they will have to come to terms with the fact that no parent is perfect and that you were mourning her, too. You miss her just as much as they do."
Hicks stayed quiet, one of his eyes got a little moist. He hastily wiped it with his free hand. Then, he side-eyed Ben gratefully for a short moment before taking a big drag from his beer.
It was a non-alcoholic one. Hicks didn't want to start drinking either.
"So, the death of Jeffrey Baptiste," Hicks said in an effort to change the subject as they both observed the other people at the small party.
Ben played along and asked, "What do you want to know?"
"You didn't hand over evidence that he had been on your property. You refused to give the night detective the recordings of your camera system, claiming you looked into it and didn't see anyone on there. There were no fingerprints or any other clues that Baptiste ever made it to your home. He just inexplicably died. Right in front of your house. The man that we have to assume was behind the diamond heist that you foiled not even hours before," Hicks narrated calmly.
"So he was on his way to my house to get revenge for the failed theft of his brother's diamond?" Ben asked with a serene, innocent smile.
"Don't bullshit me, Ben," Hicks warned, but neither his posture or his expression gave away that he was truly angry or threatening his detective.
"I won't mourn his death, but it didn't come at my hands," Ben revealed in reply.
It was an admission of his knowledge regarding the circumstance of Baptiste's death, as well as a revelation that Baptiste had managed to get on Ben's property, likely threatening to harm the detective's family.
"What a crazy case," Hicks mumbled to himself with furrowed brows, the puzzle pieces falling into place for him.
Usually, the aged policeman would have wanted the investigation to be done by the book, always, but something about Ben made the man stop thinking in black and white like he did during the long and straight trajectory of his career.
Hicks had seen firsthand how much Ben would sacrifice for the people of LA and any innocent bystander along his way when they folded the White Front.
And again when he joined Metro and contributed unceasingly, never stopping to improve his methods despite a young daughter in the hospital at the time.
And again when he started building up that community center in Crenshaw in his free time, rescuing it out of obscurity and irrelevance.
And again when he was in NY and didn't break in the face of bomb threats or when his past caught up with him. When he didn't play politics and instead of looking the other way, he chose to stand up to the councilman and his delinquent son. When he stood his ground with Christoph Kraft and did everything in his power to see justice done.
And again just earlier this week when he walked into a hostage situation to save three people without even flinching.
Again and again, Hicks saw in Ben what he always wished for his own son to be - as much as loved his children and would never openly admit it: A man with unbreakable principles, unwavering in his dedication to helping out those around him. A man who was right and did the right thing, every single time.
Or so Hicks decided in his mind. It didn't matter much if Ben was actually wrong anymore. Hicks wanted him to be right.
Ben emptied his drink, not really suspecting the thoughts running through his boss' mind, and asked, "Have you looked into that detective? Why he came all this way to Brentwood when he should have been somewhere in Westlake?"
"Detective Armstrong is a decorated officer who helped put a serial killer behind bars. During the long investigation, his wife died… it likely broke him. He switched to night shift to get away from people. Accepted all the voluntary guidance assigned by the department shrink. He's still doing a good job despite it all. For a night detective he has a stellar solving rate, his paperwork is always flawless and on time. Everybody has good things to say about him."
After standing up, Ben asked with a contemplative frown, "And you still don't know why he took a call that forced him to drive an hour through LA's streets at night?"
Hicks shook his head in denial.
Ben whispered, "weird," under his breath.
He left Hicks alone, walked over to where Deacon, Annie, and Emilia were talking, gently pried a sleepy Anna out of her mother's arms, and brought his daughter back into the house while the guests remained to mingle.
"Sorry, sorry, I'm late," someone shouted as a new guest ran around the house, but the newcomer quickly shushed himself when he saw Ben walking inside with a sleepy girl in his arms.
"John, how are you?" Ben asked with a warm smile and a quiet voice. "Ah, and you brought the other Ben in your life."
"Very nice to finally meet you, Detective Weiss. I heard nothing but good things about you," John Nolan's college friend and current landlord greeted with a sincere smile.
The Metro detective had heard from Nolan that Ben McRee read all the news reports regarding his exploits with rapt attention - as if he was reading a novel.
"Please, call me Ben," the detective quipped with a wink.
"Only if you do the same," McRee offered with a smile.
"That won't be confusing at all," Nolan chimed in with a small laugh but hurriedly shushed himself again, shooting the girl in Ben's arms an adoring look.
"There's still food on the tables, Nolan knows where all the good stuff is if you need a drink," Ben offered in a small voice as he gestured back to the pool area with his head. "Let me just bring the little one to bed before I join you."
"Of course," Nolan hurriedly accepted and gently nudged Ben into his home while he dragged the other Ben forward to meet his friends he made at SWAT despite still being a rookie.
A few minutes later, Ben joined Nolan at the pool. Somehow the conversation was on everybody sharing their experiences with the 'plain clothes day'. A crucial step in the training of rookie officers where after a hundred days of constant teaching and instruction they would 'fly solo' for the first time.
Their training officers would join them in their patrol cars while wearing plain clothes - hence the name - instead of a uniform and leave their rookies on their own, unless it was an emergency.
"You stepped into an ATF sting and completely ruined the operation?" Nolan asked with an incredulous laugh as Hicks finished his story. Back then it wasn't called Plain Clothes Day, and it wasn't technically part of the program Hicks went through either. But they still had a day where they had to handle the job on their own for the first time. Hicks, the oldest officer in this setting, had talked about his first day 'alone'.
"The ATF was new at the time, I had never seen them before and we didn't have fancy computers to communicate with other agencies," Hicks defended with furrowed brows.
"Just how old are you commander?" Deacon asked with a laugh. "Wasn't the ATF established by Nixon? So late 70s, early 80s?"
Hicks angrily brought up his finger, pointing at his officer and reprimanded, "Just because he signed an order didn't mean they immediately had boots on the ground. By the late 80s, early 90s, they were still making a name for themself - just like the DEA."
The others still laughed, Hicks quickly joining them. Making fun of his age was fine with the man, he accepted it because it came with a wealth of experience the others couldn't compare with.
"Well, that's almost as bad as my plain clothes day," Deacon revealed. "I was pantsed by an FBI agent. No joke. Well, in all fairness, I pantsed myself."
"We need the full story now," Chris eagerly chimed in with a wide grin.
"Okay, so I was called to the airport," David 'Deacon' Kay began and slicked back his hair as he got into the role of his younger self and shot his wife a sheepish grin as he continued, "There was this super hot field agent, she had asked for assistance from the LAPD. Babysitting duty as they were searching for the suspect's accomplices basically. But I was still ecstatic. I was called to help the F. B. I."
Annie playful rolled her eyes when her husband talked about that hot agent, and had to stifle a laugh when he emphasized that last sentence so forcefully.
"Why was it important that she was hot?" Nolan asked, confused. Everyone gave him a flat look, even Annie and Chris, who ended up shoving the man ten-fifteen years her senior a little.
"What do you care," Chris playfully chided. "Just get into the story and enjoy the mental picture."
"Well, uh, long story short. I asked if she needed anything, she said coffee. I got her one, tripped because I was eager to make an impression, spilled it over her pants suit. She made me take off my pants to wear them herself. Or that's what I heard when she asked me to help her change into something that wasn't stained or wet. Like the idiot I am, I gave her the pair I was wearing instead of getting the second pair I had in my patrol car. My TO laughed for months," Deacon finished, doing so quickly to not drag out his own embarrassment.
Chris grinned like a kid who just got a second set of presents on Christmas because Santa made a wrong delivery. She was going to milk this story until it wasn't funny anymore. Maybe a little more even after it wasn't.
"What about you, Ben? Knowing you, I bet you heroically saved the day during an earthquake or something," Deacon asked to deflect the attention from himself as the others were still laughing.
"Hmm, my plain clothes day?" Ben asked, remembering what had happened.
His smile immediately turned awkward.
-----
[Years before]
Ben, still in long sleeves, stood in front of Officer Grey. The older man had just finished sitting in on his sergeant exam the day before, but the paperwork wasn't yet finished, the results still not definitive.
So for now, he was still going to be a regular TO. And he would likely teach another rookie when Ben was done unless a position opened for him that Grey could take over. Like Watch Commander at their station - but the man who was currently doing that job was still a good two years away from retirement.
Grey would have to play it by ear.
And now, the man was standing in front of Ben with his arms crossed, wearing a jeans jacket and holding a sports magazine instead of wearing his usual black patrol uniform.
"I warned you about today, right, boot?"
"Yes, sir," Ben replied with a solemn nod. "You had four rookies before me and only one of them got through it to continue finishing the program. The other three washed out on this day."
"And do you plan to become number two or number four?" Grey asked with a stern voice, but almost started laughing at his own joke.
Ben had just revealed some of his talent with the four magic shots that always had perfect grouping at the gun range. The makings of a new nickname around the number four for his rookie were there.
And, well, Grey wasn't juvenile but number two was code for dookie. That would always be funny.
"Luna already invited me over for dinner, I can't disappoint her," Ben stoically answered and saw Grey's frown break for a moment.
"I can't believe you managed to charm my wife. She hates my job and almost everything that comes with it," Wade muttered in disbelief. "First she pushes me to train rookies in the false belief that it is less dangerous than regular patrol because dispatch won't send me to life-threatening calls with a boot. Then, when she learns how much worse it is if you drive around with a flighty newbie, she makes me take the sergeant's exam in the hopes I get a desk job away from the action."
"You can't blame her, your partner died in the line of duty," Ben defended solemnly but immediately shut up and straightened when his TO looked at him with narrowed eyes.
"My partner was over sixty years old and died of a heart attack chasing a banger down an alley on one of the hottest days of the decade while off-duty, dehydrated, hung over, and without backup," Wade muttered angrily. But he didn't continue to grill his rookie as he shook his head and changed the subject saying, "But enough about Meegle. Get your gear and let's hit the road."
"Yes, sir."
-----
Ben had just broken up a loud disagreement near a playground, deciding to book none of the culprits for his first call of the day.
He had argued with his TO that it was not going to help anyone if the two black men that had almost fought had to spend a night in holding only to have the cases dismissed by the DA the morning after due to them having too many open cases already. The grudge between both men would only fester and turn even more ugly in the future.
Grey didn't show it because he was 'invisible' and didn't bother to answer his rookie.
But he was proud of the decision, even if it was technically not protocol and if the time spent without any arrests or citations wouldn't look good on his rookie's tally for the day considering how much time he spent talking the aggressors down.
But Ben simply stretched the definition of the law a little and resolved this clash as peacefully as he could.
'Good with people,' Grey wrote into a notepad and underlined it. The soon-to-be-sergeant wanted to do his utmost to help Ben along with his career by highlighting his rookie's positive qualities in today's report. And to the experienced officer, Ben had many such qualities.
The evaluation logged for Plain Clothes Day was a stand-out among other evaluations for a rookie's future career options - especially if it was a good one.
An hour later, Ben got back into his patrol car after calming down a frantic German tourist who had lost his son. Someone from the strip mall had found the kid who didn't know a lick of English when that citizen saw the uniformed officer in the crowd - Ben had translated for the father and son to convey their thanks to the kind stranger that reunited the two.
'Is multilingual,' Grey wrote into his notepad hidden in the NFL magazine he pretended to browse to try and unnerve Ben.
Before this, Wade Grey had known that Ben understood Spanish to a conversational level because he had translated a heated conversation between a mother and daughter having a cat fight at one of their calls together. The TO also knew that Ben spoke French because of a shouting match his boot had gotten into with an African street vendor in his first week fresh out of the academy.
And Ben had claimed to know German.
But Grey had never heard his rookie speak the language before this day. It amazed the older officer how easily the young rookie could switch between languages.
"Dispatch, this is 7-Adam-05. Show us Code 4, the kid was safely reunited with his father," Ben spoke into his radio after sitting down in their car.
Grey watched his rookie close his eyes and take a deep breath to find his center again as he waited for dispatch to answer.
"Time for lunch break," Ben declared with a gloating smile as he turned to his silent mentor once they got the confirmation. For the first time, Ben was going to decide where the two were going to eat and it wouldn't be a greasy diner for fries and a burger.
Ben had promised Grey's wife that he would force her husband to eat healthy today. And he was more scared of Luna than he was of his TO.
"I heard there's a nice Greek food truck around here, and your wife said no meat plate for you," Ben commented as he put his car in reverse with a bright grin.
But his smile vanished when he looked at the oncoming traffic behind the man sitting in the passenger seat.
"Sir, brace yourself!" The rookie ordered sternly.
Grey's head snapped in the direction Ben was looking at and understood his intention.
A rundown, rusted van was speeding through the streets, running a stop sign and a red light while carelessly swerving around hastily dodging civilians. The vehicle kept dodging traffic by going onto the sidewalk with no care for the chaos it left behind. One man had already been hit as far as they could see, but Ben couldn't judge the extent of the man's injuries because the van blocked the view.
"7-Adam-05. 20001 in progress coming from Rossmore Avenue, I'm going to stop him with my car! Send multiple ambulances to my last location. The brown van has hit several pedestrians!" Ben hastily ordered through his radio, his eyes glued to the window, bracing himself for the impending impact.
"Luna will kill me. Luna will kill me," Ben whispered under his breath, his attention fully focused on the incoming vehicle. The van got closer and closer. "Luna will kill me."
Grey clutching the door and seat belt almost burst out laughing when he heard his rookie's mantra.
"Luna will kill me," the rookie whispered again.
"NOW!" He exclaimed and perfectly swerved out of his parked position in reverse at the right moment, flooring the gas pedal.
Both men braced themselves. The speeding van had a frontal collision with the patrol car's trunk - both cars looked completely wrecked to the gawking Los Angelites, but most importantly the van came to a stop.
"Are you okay, sir!?" Ben shouted immediately and earned an annoyed wave and a pained grunt from his TO who was busy catching his breath.
Seeing that his training officer was likely fine for the moment, Ben hastily unbuckled his seatbelt and ran toward the van, one hand on his holster.
"LAPD! Show me your hands!" Ben instructed after running around his car to look at the van's totaled front and arrest the driver if possible.
Two boney grey hands were shakily held outside of the open window.
"Thank god you finally made this devil machine stop!" An old, grumpy voice cried back weakly.
A man who looked like he was well past his 80s looked in the vague direction of Ben while barely being able to see past the steering wheel.
-----
[Back in Ben's backyard]
"Anectdotally, I stopped a serial killer. In reality, I was declared persona non grata at the Grey household, uninvited from two birthday parties before Sergeant Grey's wife talked to me again, and I put a 92 year old in a nursing home with a psych ward," Ben summarized in answer to the question to how his Plain Clothes Day went.
"Oooh, I remember that!" Hicks suddenly exclaimed as if Ben had retold a particularly engaging story instead of saying a single sentence. "That was you, Ben?"
"What do you mean, boss?" Deacon asked with a mirthful smile.
"Let's just say Ben is no newbie when it comes to making headlines," Hicks said with a laugh and started searching for something on his phone.
When he did, he held up his phone with a wide smile. On it was a picture from an old LA Times front page. The headline in question that Hicks pointed to was below the fold in a corner. Thankfully for Ben, there was no photo of him. He was only named once as Officer Weiss, too.
Nolan leaned forward and read out loud, "'The youngest rookie to ever end a potential serial killer'?"
Ben slapped his face.
"The guy had full-blown dementia and barely functioned. He stole a neighbor's van after his elderly daughter sold his car for a cruise to look for her fifth husband and started driving. He didn't know where he was going. The press only reported that I stopped a guy after he drove through hundreds of people on a busy day. Despite barely driving 30mph and somehow magically being able to dodge everyone despite having the vision of a mole."
Ben sighed deeply and continued, "Nobody died, a couple of people ended up in the hospital. They also later claimed it was a failed terrorist attack because the so-called journalist never figured out the man was 92 and missing many of his faculties until two weeks later. The press thought the driver of that van wanted to go on this rage-fueled drive to kill as many people as possible… Captain Bridges at Mid-Wilshire wouldn't release a statement correcting them either, 'because they got the gist of it' and he wanted the story to get out of the news cycle."
The stunned silence the group found themselves in was broken when Chris took a step forward and slapped Ben's shoulder while laughing. She pointed at him, looked at the others, and pretended to be Deacon while saying, "See? Ben was a hero even on that day!"
"I really can't imagine Sergeant Grey as a TO," Nolan mumbled distractedly. "He's scary."
"And what were you doing on Plain Clothes Day?" Ben asked with an annoyed huff to get the attention shifted away from himself as he ignored Nolan for a moment and focused on Chris.
The lone female police officer at the party just shrugged and explained, "Somebody on my usual beat died. My watch commander made me stand in the sun guarding the crime scene all day. Zero arrests and citations. Zero action. My TO didn't like me much either because he was a chauvinist pig. I learned nothing that day other than that I really didn't like my old station. It was the day I decided I'd join literally any other department that would get me away from them. That's how I ended up at the K9 unit."
The mood turned a little somber.
Nobody said anything until Ben turned to Nolan and asked, "You guys started talking about Plain Clothes Day because yours was yesterday, right? Tell us how it went now that it's still fresh in your memory."
Nolan swallowed when the full attention was on him and sheepishly scratched his head.
"I, uh, I learned that I still have a lot to… learn," he said with a small, wry grin.
"Booo! Tell us what happened," Chris chimed in and playfully gave him a thumbs up to indicate that they were on his side.
Deacon and Hicks gave the old rookie encouraging nods and so Nolan began to describe his day.
About how he started it with a win and a loss. How he almost lost a suspect after busting his knee. How he taught a young mother how to swaddle her baby after terrorizing her with a 'dynamic entry'. How he managed to assist in a felony arrest all the way in a different county by generating a credible lead.
… and how he failed to see the signs of someone fleeing domestic abuse, which led to a frightened woman getting abducted by her husband and almost killed in the parking lot of a trucking company.
Nobody gave the rookie any advice when he finished his story. He had already learned his lessons and his TO Bishop and Watch Commander Grey gave him all the helpful tips he would need. Anything else would be condescending.
Looking around the faces of his guests, Ben eventually lightened the mood as he quipped, "Guess I wasn't the only one being a hero on Plain Clothes Day."
Chris and Deacon immediately shoved him playfully and the group continued their banter.
As the first people were leaving the celebration of Ben's newest medal some time later, Chris stayed behind to help clean up with Zofia and Ben.
"How come your new chick wasn't here today?" Chris asked casually, as if that question hadn't burned on her tongue for hours. "You know. Gorgeous, red hair, sinful body, smile that could wake the dead, smart, funny, way out of your league. That one."
Ben flicked her forehead in a lightning quick move before running away. Turning back when the pool was between the two, Ben held his ribs because that impulsive move hadn't been fully thought out and hurt a lot, but he also shot back, "I'm a catch, never get that wrong again!"
"I see now," Chris muttered with a nod as she pretended to gain enlightenment. "She isn't here because you're a petty, childish, little nerd."
"Hey, I'm not little!" Ben called out indignantly.
Chris raised another middle finger for her best friend and asked, "So why isn't the gorgeous redhead here to bask in your presence?"
"Are you asking because you want to know or because you want to try and steal her from me?" Ben asked with narrowed eyes and overly-acted suspicion.
Chris' finger was almost sheathed back, but hearing his question, the SWAT officer raised it again, higher and with more meaning this time.
Ben gave her his signature look of superiority again, pretending he won their argument. But he deflated when Zofia came back outside from the kitchen after putting away the dirty plates and chimed in to clarify, "Sara is doing auction of the diamond today. It starts in one hour. He has been looking at his phone every time he thinks nobody is looking. He also call her when he put Anna to sleep earlier."
"The betrayal," Ben whispered tearfully.
"Ah, she has to work," Chris nodded in understanding. She shot Ben a disdainful look and asked, "And you're not there to play knight in shining armor, ready to keep his princess safe?"
"Zofia told Sara about the party that you two planned in my honor and the bitch dared to ban me from the venue," Ben loudly whispered in mock offense. It immediately hit Chris' funny bone as she started laughing a full-belly laugh. Between her wheezing, Ben timidly asked, "Can you not tell her I called her a bitch?"
"Only if I can crash here tonight," Chris easily blackmailed with a sweet smile.
"Is your tía angry again that you hooked up with someone who isn't right for you?"
Chris raised her middle finger again, but this time with a smile.