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James was humming that song again. Robbie set his cappuccino on the table and sat across the table, rather than next to him, as was frequently their habit. He observed James reading through the victim’s diary while smoking, and then noticing the cup Robbie had placed in front of him.
“Cheers,” James said. He took a sip, wiped foam from his nose.
Robbie smiled. There were so many ways James didn’t fit in with the rest of the world, but sometimes he did these completely normal things that reminded Robbie he wasn’t much different from others.
The humming started again soon after.
Robbie’s cup hit its saucer harder than necessary. “God, man! How long are you going to keep that up?”
James, startled, looked at him. The diary was tucked between the long fingers of one hand, cigarette in the other. Those hands touched every part of Robbie’s body as easily as they grabbed suspects who got a bit aggro, only with more delicacy. Everything about James was so deliberate. Which was why humming that song had to mean something was off.
“Something about that song get it stuck in your head, James?”
“Only that I’ve had to hear it about a thousand times since this case started.” James put out his cigarette, exhaled off to the side. “Lizzie keeps listening to it, thinking there’s some meaning as to why it was playing on repeat while Gina Berkland was murdered.”
Robbie contemplated his cup. “Just as easily a coincidence, though.”
“She was practicing for an audition.” James shrugged, a holdover from his early days as Sergeant. He took a long sip from his cup, and went back to reading the diary, probably for the tenth time.
Suddenly Robbie needed to make some sort of connection between them. He shifted his leg under the table so his knee pressed against James’s. This had become a new hobby of his, to find all the ways he could share a moment with James whilst out in public. Much more satisfying than canoe building. He ignored the conflict this caused within him.
Now wasn’t the time to think about all that.
“What’s the song about, then?”
James, who had been smiling slightly, so Robbie had at least distracted him from both the humming and their puzzling case, inhaled and leaned back in his chair. Robbie braced himself for James’s Tutor Voice, as he termed it.
“‘Defying Gravity’ is the song that ends the first act of the musical Wicked, in which our anti-heroine, Elphaba, realizes her loyalties to The Wizard have been misplaced and decides to strike out on her own to confront him alone, going against the rules of Oz.”
“Sounds like a show-stopper.”
“Indeed. Elphaba takes the ultimate leap of faith, decides to break all the rules of their society and rebel. It’s all very uplifting up until the bit where her friend won’t join her.”
“You’ve become familiar with the song.”
“I did mention Lizzie’s been very into research lately.”
“ Ah, let her be. She’s just taking a page from her Inspector’s book.” He watched James roll his eyes, though there was no denying the pleased expression on his face. He thought about what James had told him. “Any chance there’s a wizard in our victim’s life?”
James tossed the notebook he’d been reading on the table. “No. I do believe there would have been at least a mention, given how forthright she was concerning her more personal escapades.”
Was James blushing? Robbie was usually the one who avoided frank talk about the intimate turn their relationship had taken, out of what he knew was an old-fashioned sense of propriety. It was normal to feel uncomfortable talking about that, wasn’t it? If the diary was making James feel rattled, then he was pleased James was the one who did all the reading in this relationship.
Robbie stopped, his coffee cup halfway to his mouth.
“Robbie? Did you have an idea?”
He took his aborted sip and waved his hand. “Too many to make sense of, apparently,” he said. “You say the song is about taking a leap of faith?”
“Everyone is against her, but she is driven by her mission to save Oz.”
Robbie couldn’t keep his mind from straying to thoughts of him and James and the secretiveness of their relationship. It made him uneasy, this blending. Probably they were always under the surface of everything, given how keeping secrets had never sat comfortable with him.
James, who had lit another cigarette, was watching the tourists and locals around them. James, who now let Robbie in even when Robbie didn’t push. Which was, in it’s own way, a fairly huge leap for James, Robbie realized. Robbie studied the contemplative expression on his face and wondered what literary allusions were crossing his mind at the moment. He supposed he would find out soon enough.
James, though, had apparently been considering less lofty ideas.
“Sad, when you think about it. Elphaba asks Glinda to join her, but Glinda turns her down.”
So James wasn’t making literary allusions, but personal ones? Was that why the song had got stuck in his head? “What happens at the end? Of the play.”
James turned his attention back to the table in front of him. “Elphaba becomes the Wicked Witch of the West in the eyes of all of Oz, fakes her death, and runs off with the love of her life.”
“A happyish sort of ending, then?”
“Aside from the fact that she and Glinda will forever mourn the loss of their friendship, yes.”
Of all the-- was that what he turns about in his mind? Of course it was, always seeing the darker side of everything was James’s particular talent. Robbie shook his head, knew he was scowling, but couldn’t help it. He wasn’t the sort who liked hiding, but he had been, and it hasn’t sat well with him. James wasn’t the one seeing parallels between them and these characters, Robbie was.
After all, what was a leap of faith if one wasn’t willing to take it alone?
“Takeaway at mine later,” he asked.
James smiled at him and pressed his leg against Robbie’s. “I’ll bring the beers.”
Robbie pressed back, feeling slightly giddy. “Think I might call our Lyn on the weekend.”
James’s brow furrowed. “Don’t you always?”
“I was thinking--” His heart was pounding. This was the way it worked, wasn’t it? James had followed his lead all along in this relationship, from the very start. Robbie needed to show James that he was worth any risk. “What was it Shakespeare said about being true to yourself?”
“This above all things - to thine own self be true?” The reply was automatic, if a bit puzzled.
Of course. Above all things, like fear. “Right. I was thinking of telling her--Lyn--about us.”
James, who had been taking a sip of his cappuccino, coughed slightly, causing foam to spray out. He busied himself with his serviette, wiping off Gina’s notebook, his tie, places it really hadn’t gone.
“All right?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. I just--” Having battled the mess, James recovered enough to pick up his cigarette, burnt almost to ash.
“Do you not want me to?”
“I don’t really have a say, though.”
“You do. It involves you.”
“No. No. It’s fine.” He took a deep breath. “ I… would like that.”
King of the understatement, his James. Because now Robbie could see the way his eyes had lit up and a certain vibrancy in his movements that made Robbie want to grab his hands and pull them in his lap. James was once again turning the pages of the diary, but a small smile teased his lovely mouth.
Any doubts Robbie had about this impulsive decision vanished. Whatever happened, he wouldn’t be leaping alone.
End