Dark Blue

For the first twenty years of my adult life I've worn a uniform - starched, creased and pressed.

The first was olive green; I spent eight years in the Army and saw a taste of war in Kuwait and Somalia. I honored the oath I'd made to my Uncle Sam and am proud to have served.

The next twelve years were spent in navy blue behind the wheel of a patrol car. I swear, those years were ten times more dangerous than being in a war zone. The mean streets of LA are a fucking war zone, don't ever kid yourself. The fire power employed by the gangs can and would make a lot of third world armies green with envy.

Each year that I spent on the force, I became a little harder and a little more cynical. My trust in human nature evaporated from a solid curtain to no more than a fine mist. I was sure that I was the one that was going to make the difference from the moment that badge was pinned to my shirt. It turned out to be a childish fantasy, I ended up hating the only thing I'd ever done. Here's my story.

"This is the city: Los Angeles, California. I work here. I'm a cop," that's what ran through my head at the beginning of every shift. My name's Joe, just like the guy that used to growl that bullshit line on TV. My partner's name was Bill too, just the same as Sergeant Friday's, but believe me, that's where the resemblance ended.

The semi sterile working conditions that you see on TV are nothing like we see on the job, and I swear as God is my witness, I've never said, "Just the facts ma'am."

Bill and I were working the day watch out of the Rampart division. Ok, forget you ever heard that. It was a typical sunny day in LA, if you could have seen the sun that is. The smog was thick and there was an odd orange tint to the sky.

After our usual breakfast of chilidogs and sushi, Bill and I hit the streets. He was telling me all about his date from the night before, when the radio interrupted his description of the blowjob he'd received. We took the call and while Bill drove toward the address the dispatcher had given us, I pulled my duty weapon and checked the chamber.

I holstered my Glock, feeling a little more secure. We were headed to a report of a fight at a bar. These things can range from a simple argument to a full-blown riot. Bill pulled up to the bar with his side of the car facing the building. He already had his hand on the door of the bar while I was coming around the side of the patrol.

I made it through the opening just in time to see Bill take a pool cue across the bridge of his nose. He flew backwards with blood splattering everywhere when he hit the floor.

Without thinking, my hand shot out and spun the guy that held the stick. I threw a crushing overhand right that had every ounce of my two hundred and forty pounds behind it, the guy hit the floor like a lump of loose shit.

Asshole number two must have taken offense to the way I had treated the first perp. My peripheral vision caught him as he rounded the end of the billiard table. The knife in his hand gave me the first clue of his intent to cause me grievous bodily harm.

With little regard to his weapon, my instincts took over. I hit him hard with a shoulder to his midsection and slammed him on his back in the middle of the green slate. He brought his arm up, and just as quickly I shoved it down, abruptly breaking his arm on the inflexible table edge. The knife flew from his hand and the little bitch started screaming for his momma.

I was none too gentle when I rolled him to his stomach and cuffed him, broken arm and all. I knew he was in a lot of pain because I'd never seen anyone's forearm bent at that angle before. It looked to me like he had an extra elbow.

I secured the other one that was still unconscious and radioed for an ambulance for my partner. Bill was sitting up now with a bar towel held to his face to stop the flow of blood from his nose. His eyes were very nearly swollen shut, he would probably be on sick leave for a while.

Back up had arrived by then, I was still busy trying to help Bill control the bleeding. He was like a little brother to me you know, I felt pretty bad but maybe this would teach him to wait for me the next time. That kind of John Wayne shit will get an officer killed in a big hurry. I filed that thought away for future reference.

Before I knew it there were people coming from all over. Three ambulances were on scene along with about a dozen more cops. I couldn't believe this much damned attention for a simple bar brawl. Two detectives were asking questions to all the bar patrons, and to top it all off, a TV news crew showed up, there must not have been any low speed freeway chases going on for them to report.

The paramedics finally got my partner loaded into the ambulance and the duty sergeant ordered me to follow in the squad and get checked out myself. I argued that I was fine but Mac wasn't having any of it.

At the emergency room, it was clear that Bill was in good hands and going to be okay. I watched at the door and when he made a pass at the first nurse he saw I stopped feeling sorry for the little bastard.

I heard a loud voice call out, "Romanski, exam two."

That being my name, Joe Romanski, I shuffled down the hall to the exam room to get checked out.

The doctor was a rather small woman with her hair piled and pinned to the top of her head. She wore the usual green scrubs and very unflattering eye glasses. She held a chart in her hands and was looking it over as she ordered me to strip.

"Jeezus Doc, all I need is a band-aid for a skinned knuckle."

"Don't give me any shit, Officer Romanski, off with the clothes. I'm the doctor here and I'll decide what you need," she barked.

As I was slowly unbuttoning my shirt, her impatience was starting to spread across her face. I went from the top button to the bottom very slowly and deliberately. She removed her glasses and watched as I carefully draped my shirt over the back of the chair. Gradually pulling the Velcro fasteners of my Kevlar vest made an excruciating ripping sound that made her purse her lips.

My teasing wasn't making any points with this woman. I could see the color change in her face, she was becoming flush. She stepped forward and looked straight into my eyes.

"Would you mind speeding it up a little, I haven't got all goddamned day to waste," She hissed through clenched teeth.

That made me smile just a little to myself, I was getting under her skin. Her patience reached the breaking point and she decided that she'd had enough of my insolence. With the deft touch of a surgeon, duh, she removed the remainder of my uniform. She pushed me back onto the exam table with unexpected force.

"Romanski, you can be such an asshole sometimes," she chided as she removed her scrub bottoms and panties.

She crawled up on the gurney and positioned her wet pussy over my raging hard on.

"What, no foreplay?" I teased.

"Stop messing around Joe, I need this and I need it right now," she begged.

Hey, doctor's orders and all that good stuff, I wasn't about to argue so I gave the good Doctor what she wanted. I pushed my cock steadily into her tight little slit.

"Oh God yes," she cried.

The look of ecstasy on her face told me when I was hitting her sweet spot. I increased the pace and her jaw was now hanging open about to show me her "O" face. It was fast furious sex, the no frills kind. Doctor Moss, Nancy, was screaming into my shoulder. Her muffled cries only served to urge me on as I pumped into her for all I was worth.

With her needs fulfilled, she remained in the saddle. Her fingers combed through my chest hair as she asked, "Why Joe, why haven't we ever... shit, we haven't ever even been on a real date, you know."

"You want the smooth version or the truth?"

"How about the truth for a change, that might be interesting."

"Okay, but you asked for it," I warned, "How long have we known each other, five, maybe six years?" she nodded, "And in all that time can you honestly tell me that you ever wanted any part of me above my waste?"

"Well yeah, but..."

"Come on Nance, the truth," I coaxed.

"I see where you're going but... Joe, isn't there more to us than this?"

"How long do you think it would be until one of our jobs came first? Could you honestly tell me that it wouldn't happen? I do care for you Nan, I care too much to let something stupid like a wedding ring turn into resentment or hate," I explained.

"What makes you think we couldn't make it work?" she asked.

"It would be too one sided Baby, would you be willing to give up your career for me?"

"Joe, that isn't even a fair question, you know how much I love what I do."

"Yeah I do, and that's exactly my point. When you commit your life to someone, you have to be willing to die for that person. Could you do it?"

"Goddamn Romanski, when did you get so freaking introspective? I guess I should have gone with the smooth version."

A few minutes later, I walked out with a band-aid across my knuckles and four stitches in my shoulder where Nancy had sunk her teeth. I really did have strong feelings for Nancy but I was smart enough not to chase something that I had no chance of catching. She loved what she did and I had no right to ask her for any more than she was willing to give.

I drove the squad back to the station and filed my report. In the report I described step by step the details of the day's events up to and including my hospital visit. I omitted the details of my extensive medical examination with Nance. I simple wrote that I was treated for a minor abrasion and released for duty.

At roll call the next morning, I expected to pick up a temporary partner as Bill would be on medical leave for the next two weeks. What I got was a trip to Lieutenant Exley's office.

Was I being sent to the principal's office? The answer was yes, my sergeant and I were ordered to report right after roll call. Exley reprimanded me for my so called heavy handed actions of the previous day. He went on to suspend me from duty for two weeks pending further investigation of the entire incident. I was incensed and outraged at his asinine assumption that I had acted beyond prudent and necessary force. The limp wristed little prick had no fucking idea how much I had restrained myself, I would have clearly been justified using deadly force on the guy with the knife.

Sergeant McCormack just watched as the prick even suggested that in the future I should consider contacting my superiors before acting as judge and jury. I felt the blood rising in my face as he continued to question my worth to the department. Biting my tongue, I stood and took it, I took it right up until he ordered me to attend anger management classes during my suspension.

"I'd like to ask if I may Sir," I started out politely, "Are you serious or am I on candid camera?" I was on a roll and had no intentions of stopping, "Did you think this up on your own or is the whole fucking department insane?"

"Romanski, you'd better watch your mouth, you're treading on thin ice," he said.

"Why don't you suck my dick, Sir," I asked politely.

The corners of Sarge's mouth quivered as he tried not to laugh out loud. Exley was on his feet now and I could hear the gears grinding in his head trying to come up with something to say.

I continued, "Sir, I'd like to suggest a new policy whereas it requires a lieutenant to follow officers to the restroom to make sure we don't fuck that up too. Maybe it would be a good idea for the lieutenants to wipe our asses for us."

Exley was right in front of me now, his face gave him away. He looked like a man about to have a stroke, or at the very least a mild heart attack.

"You... You..."

SMACK! The prick bitch slapped me. I considered squashing him like a bug but realized that he'd stuck an officer in front of a witness. His ass was just served up to me on a silver platter.

I turned and left his office to write a report of the incident. I handed the paperwork to McCormack, which he gladly signed and forwarded to the Captain for his review. I changed into my civies and drove to Bill's to see if he needed anything.

Actually I used that as an excuse to talk. I picked up some sandwiches and a twelve pack of cold beer on the way. Bill would've looked like a raccoon if he could have opened his eyes, he was black and blue from ear to ear. We joked for a few minutes as he devoured one of the salami subs. He used the cold beer like an ice pack laying the bottle alongside his swollen nose.

"Bro, I need to ask you something," I hemmed.

"Shoot, ask me anything."

"I wanna know straight out Buddy, can you make it on the job without me?" I asked.

"What the hell's going on Joe, are you gonna quit?"

"I'm really thinkin' about it ya know, all the bullshit and the way nobody gives a shit anymore. I'm getting' old too and maybe it's time to get serious about life before some Vato shoots my balls off."

"Man, I never saw this comin', when?"

"A month maybe two," I answered.

"It just won't be the same without your big ugly face around."

"Shit Bill, I wasn't going to say this but maybe it's time for you to think about it too."

"What... leave the force?"

"Yeah, or at least think about going somewhere a little more laidback."

"What are you getting at partner?"

"You're a loose cannon bro, that shit at the bar yesterday would never have happened if you'd of waited five more seconds. What if that fucker had a piece in his hands instead of that cue? Think about what I'm saying."

Bill was silent for a minute, I wondered if I'd crossed the line between truth and friendship. It's sometimes harder to tell somebody you care about the truth than to take the fifth and remain silent. I didn't want to hurt him but the facts don't lie. The awkward moment was interrupted by one of Bill's many girlfriends.

I'd said what I'd come to say. I wasn't happy about it but then again, I'd finally gotten it off my chest. Yesterday wasn't the first time that I'd had to bail his ass out of a bad situation. Don't get me wrong, Bill was a good cop. He just needs some time to get over his Lone Ranger complex.

Alone that night it struck me that I had just laid a boat load of gospel on the two people I cared most about, Nancy and Bill. Was it cathartic, no, I didn't feel better. I felt an inkling of betrayal as a matter of fact. My personal life and my career were both headed for some major changes. At the crossroads, there are many paths. The only one I was sure not to choose was the one I had been on for too long already.

The next morning after a chilidog and an alfalfa smoothie, I drove to the community college where the hostility abatement academy would be held. I would follow orders for the time being, when I left the department it would be on my terms. I'd stick things out long enough to be marked fit for duty.

There were about ten people in the class not counting me. It was glaringly apparent that I was the lone police officer in the room. Most of the others would be there to satisfy a court order stemming from domestic disputes. To me, I stuck out like a sore thumb. The others all looked like they were attending a PTA meeting, I on the other hand, wore my Ray Bans and an LAPD T shirt.

Our facilitator appeared to me like she was no more than a teenager. She kinda reminded me of Malibu Barbie, you know with the long bleached blonde hair and the deep dark Coppertone tan. The lack of curves and the almost nonexistent tits made me wonder if she was anatomically correct under her stylish business suit.

None of the parts fit together as a whole package. The hair and the face said bikini. The clothes screamed old spinster. But the legs, the legs confused the shit out of me. They were long, as long as I'd ever seen on a woman before. Shapely doesn't do them justice and slender doesn't quite work, maybe shapely slender. At least if the class bored me I'd have something to stare at to keep myself amused.

She started to speak and I paid attention long enough to find out she wasn't underage, she was actually twenty four and had a psyche degree, ooh very impressive. For the next twenty minutes, Miss Davis talked but I didn't hear very much. This was so pointless to me, I was there because I had to be. Hell, we were all probably there for the same reason, because somebody else thought we should be.

I was bored out of my scull and was wondering just how many times she could wrap those incredible legs around my waist. I pictured it as two maybe two and a half times. She glared at me a few times like she knew just exactly what I was thinking.

"I want you all to participate in a very simple exercise, please take a deep breath and then count to ten with me," Miss Davis instructed, " One... Two... Three..."

What a load of childish crap, a Feng shui class made more sense to me than this bullshit.

She continued, "Now I'd like you all to do the exercise again but this time think about what makes you angry."

For Christ's sake, I already knew what made me angry. If I stopped to count on the job, Bill and I could be dead for nine and three quarters of that ten seconds. I got up and walked toward the door.

"Mister Romanski, where are you going, we're not finished yet," called Miss Davis.

"I'm takin' a break," I called back, "Anger management pisses me off."

I could hear the rapid clatter of her heels on the tile floor as she followed me out the door.

"ROMANSKI," she shouted.

I turned to face her, she had her hands on her hips and looked disgusted with me, "Yes, Miss Davis," I replied calmly.

"This is precisely why you are in this workshop, your anger just got the best of you didn't it," she scolded.

"Unh... No ma'am, I don't think so. I'd say what happened was that... Well, unh, I realized that I'd already graduated kindergarten thirty somethin' years ago," I said moving closer to her.

"Goddamned pig headed..." she seethed.

"Whoa baby, you're assuming an awful lot about me that isn't there and it looks to a trained eye like you have some issues of your own."

"Maybe I do but it's frustrating when men don't take what I do seriously. I've worked hard to get where I am and I don't like being ignored," she sighed.

"Fair enough Miss... oh screw that, what's your first name?"

"Jamie," she replied defensively.

"Okay Jamie, we both have issues. I'm willing to bend and meet you half way. If you'll agree to sit down with me and have coffee and talk, I'll come back to class and play nice with the other boys and girls," I offered.

"I don't date student or patients," she said crossing her arms.

"Who said anything about a date, you're assuming again. I said coffee and talk, there was no mention or implication of anything more."

"I... I don't think it would be a good idea to mix-"

"Hey, your choice, I'm not twisting your arm but know this, I will not sit through any more of this bullshit until we both understand each other."

"Why should I care, it doesn't matter to me if you quit."

"I think it does or you wouldn't have followed me here."

"Alright, we'll talk after class."

"I'll be waiting right here."

"But aren't you coming back in? You said-"

"I said I would be back after we understood each other."

Well she wasn't happy as she strode away. While waiting, it gave me some time to sit and think about where my life was headed. To me, it was a foregone conclusion that my days in uniform were numbered. It wasn't just the latest thing with Exley, it was more like a plate of flapjacks, layer after layer. A lot of the problem was the city, I mean, LA was exciting for me at first but now I just look at it as an ocean of despair. I rarely get to see the gentle side of life. I didn't think about my problems long though, I wondered if Jamie could maybe get her legs around me three times if I held my breath.