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“C’mon.” Daisy says, and Basira doesn’t know what the hell she’s talking about. She’s supposed to be contacting a witness for some case that’ll move a bit faster if she can actually secure any real evidence. But Detective Tonner is looking at her, impatient. “We both know you’re curious about what I do in the woods.” And that may be the most Daisy has ever said regarding Basira’s feelings in the whole year and a half they were Sectioned together. Hell, that makes Basira even more curious.
“I never said-” Basira starts. She still finds this strange. “Right. You didn’t say. Just because you’re not saying something, doesn’t mean you don’t think it. Now. It’s sort of urgent.” They both stand up, leave the room, and get into the police car. Basira doesn’t even have time to close her computer, but Daisy never shows herself, so this has to happen at once or never again. They take the third figure into the car, and at the very least, Basira understands his greeting undertone with fear. The handcuffed one in the backseat doesn’t say a word. None of them do.
It isn’t like Basira doesn’t know what Daisy does in the center of Epping Forest. She isn’t one to let anything or anyone get away, yet she always comes back to the station with the car empty. She gets rid of them. And Basira knows – she’s learned – Daisy’s not one for questions. She counters them with a “Why do you need to know?” A what are you, a cop? Well, I’m one too. Mind your business. Basira doesn’t hand out full operational discretion, she’s in no place to counter how Daisy does things.
But, with her back against that car seat, Basira is able to glean the unsaid here. She knows Daisy thinks that this is her explanation. It’s clear that this is an extension of trust, all of the questions in Basira’s mind will be answered. It’s like Daisy explained, the only thing she was able to get out about Epping Forest. There are some things that are meant to make you understand, without saying a word. And that, both of them think and neither of them say, can be powerful.
An episode and a half of Archers, playing just to fill the silence, and they’re there. The detective takes the silent man’s wrist in her hand. Her muscles are tense, she breathes deeply. There is a brown bag hung over her shoulder, and she reaches into it. “Watch,” she tells her partner. She takes a flamethrower out of the bag, while Basira stands there. The silent man stares, without saying a word he begs Basira to do something, please, trust him, help him. Basira trusts Daisy, not whoever this is. Without saying a word, Daisy affirms that this is the right choice.
The handcuffed man bares his teeth. He does not appear to be human, humans don’t have that many fangs in their mouths. He – or it, maybe tries to escape, to run out of the middle of nowhere. Daisy stares blazes at it. She doesn’t look scared, and as she gives chase, it’s almost a smile that ripples her face. Basira takes a couple of steps to follow the action – she can’t lose the only lead she’s ever been given for free, especially since Daisy doesn’t particularly like to share. She bares her teeth right back at it, corners it at the edge of the clearing, and it lights up like firewood.
Basira flinches. That wasn’t a person, for certain. And it surely isn’t now, it’s a spark that falls to the ground as ash, a dying star for something that should never be seen. Daisy drops to her knees, puts the flamethrower away and catches her breath. Basira watches her chest rise and fall, and sees the bit of ash that somehow got on her face. Daisy showed her a monster – maybe two monsters, if the shine in her eye brings out enough bloodlust. No. Daisy is just trying to protect everyone, a monster killer is a noble thing to be, isn’t it? Her partner sits beside her, a “so,” on her tongue. Clearly, she’s not out of unspoken questions.
“So,” Daisy responds. “That’s why I bring them out here. Not hard to chase down, but dangerous if they aren’t.” Basira is the only human in this clearing who has ever felt afraid. That much is true, she was afraid of teeth and fire and Daisy being wrong about something. She breathes in, breathes out twice as slowly, and smells metal in the air. The pile of ash that constituted the third per–no, the monster, smells like blood. Basira’s heart rate’s up, although she didn’t run at all. Daisy has never shied away from violence, but she’s never brought something to a chase.
So, one detective stares at the other, and Daisy takes Basira’s hand. Something more grounding than the scent of blood. Basira breathes in, and exhales twice as long. She may be scared, but there’s nothing to cause that fear. The thing that Daisy chased is dead. They both know that. Neither of them say it, but Basira sees their trust the way it is. A blood-soaked shard of tinted glass – impossible to see through, painful like it could be broken, but it isn’t.
It’s sharper than ever.