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They’re getting towards the end of the case now, Florence can feel it, but instead of a sense that things are winding down, there’s a sense that they’re winding up . She feels tense between her shoulder blades, an old feeling from her detective days, her pulse speeding up a notch. The case of Blake Blossom might be solved but it’s not over .
The feeling isn’t entirely unwarranted - they have just seen video proof of a previously-unknown universe, and extremely physical in-person proof that Hector is alive. She scans the crowd as she tries to follow Heard, who knows what he’s planning, running after Hector like that-
Someone catches her arm in the crowd. It’s more than the press of people trying to get closer to the screen or the push of those leaving - their hand snakes out of the crowd and grips the fabric of her jacket, making her stumble.
Florence’s hand goes to her holster before her brain even registers the movement. She turns to face the person stopping her and freezes, because the sight of the person stopping her is even more impossible than seeing Hector was.
Patricia Phinkel.
Patty.
The crowd around them parts a little, or perhaps they just fade from Florence’s awareness. Florence can’t really hear them anymore over her heartbeat as she at Patty stare at one another.
Patty’s hair is different, a little shorter. Florence wonders when she changed it. It suits her. Her old hairstyle suited her too, of course. But this suits her in a different way. Her features seem sharper, more at home in this strange city.
She was always good at blending in, after all.
There’s a moment where Florence’s mouth opens but no words come out. It’s possible that she makes a very undignified and startled noise. Patty seems to take this as her opening to start talking.
“It took me forever to track you down, do you know what I had to go through to get here?” says Patty, “I had to call in favours , Florence! Favours! You know I like to save those!”
Something clenches in Florence’s chest at the tone of her voice. It’s as though Patty has just followed her in from her car again on some ordinary Bluff City afternoon, trying to weedle out information from Florence, as though Florence hadn’t had to drop off the face of the earth to follow this case through.
“How did you even-”
“-know you were gone? Well, your house being empty was a good give away.” something flickers in Patty's expression, serious and sad and not at all like her. “And your daughter called me.”
“Oh,” says Florence, faintly.
Agents Seals and Ryder have caught up to them now. Seals raises her eyebrows at Florence, gesturing Ryder in front of them.
“I’ll catch up,” says Seals, “keep following Heard.”
Ryder nods, shooting Florence an unreadable look as she passes. Florence chooses to take this as Ryder attempting to give moral support.
“Page,” says Seals, “who exactly is this?”
Florence opens her mouth but Patty gets there first.
“Patty Fink,” says Patty, plastering her body against Florence's side. “I'm her lover.”
Florence covers her face with both hands. “ Please don't say it like that.”
She can feel the excited bounce of Patty's body, the huff of delight she does when she has a clear opportunity to go against the direct request of anyone.
“ Lover ,” repeats Patty, even more lavasiously than previously.
“I- okay ,” says Seals slowly, “I didn’t think you had any contacts here?”
“I don’t,” says Florence.
“I’m not from here,” says Patty at the same time.
“Okay,” says Seals again, drawing the word out, “but how did you get here ?”
“I have ways,” says Patty, “you just have to have the right information from the right person, that’s all.”
“That’s… not exactly any clearer,” says Seals.
“Well I can’t tell you my sources ,” says Patty, “I wouldn’t be a very good information broker if I told everyone where I got my information from .”
“Forget it Seals,” says Florence, “she’s always- wait. Why are you here?”
Patty shrugs, relaxing her hold on Florence but not really stepping away.
“Work,” says Patty, “I got a case and I followed it here, the same as you.”
“It’s not any of your business Patty,” says Florence.
“I make everything my business, you know that,” says Patty, “It’s good for business to make everything my business. If I didn’t do that we would never have met, and that would have been bad, right?”
Florence doesn’t say anything.
“Right, Florence?”
“I- I- I- Well,” says Florence. She can feel Seals watching them closely. “It’s- you- It’s been-”
Patty’s shoulder slump before she shakes herself, putting half a step between them for the first time. Florence’s fingers curl by her sides. She very carefully does not reach for Patty.
“Your daughter called me,” says Patty.
Florence pinches the bridge of her nose. “Patty, listen, I don’t-”
“No, you listen,” says Patty, “your daughter called me, because she found your- your goodbye letter to me .”
Florence feels the blood drain from her face. It’s not that there was anything particularly... unsuitable for her daughter to see, but it was still… there were some personal things, in that letter. Things Florence had never been particularly skilled at saying aloud, things that she perhaps wished she had been better at saying aloud to Patty before she’d had to leave.
“She what?” says Florence faintly.
“So she found the letter,” says Patty, continuing on in that way that, if Florence didn’t know her as well as she does, she would say Patty was ignoring her entirely (if it weren’t for the quick flick of Patty’s eyes to her, the particular tilt of Patty’s head). “And she searched your house until she found a way to contact me, which, can I say, she is absolutely your daughter, one hundred percent-”
Florence does feel a swell of pride, at that. And perhaps another, warmer, feeling in her chest a little at the way that Patty grins as she says it.
“And so she asked me where you’d gone, and I said I didn’t know-”
“Wait,” says Florence, “you didn’t read the letter?”
“Of course I read the letter,” says Patty, “after she gave me the letter. It was- You- It’s not like you gave me directions.” She pauses. “Anyway. So I said I didn’t know where you went, but that I would be interested to find out, and wow , was it ever interesting. And illuminating. Interesting and illuminating.”
“I’m sure,” says Seals, looking over Florence’s shoulder, “Listen, Page, we’ve gotta-”
“Yes, I know I-”
Patty’s hand goes back to Florence’s arm. “Oh no, I just found you, I’m not letting you out of my sight .”
“ Page ,” says Seals.
She already moving past them, heading through the crowd in the direction that Heard and Hector had gone.
“Patty, I have to-”
Patty’s grip tightens. Florence makes a frustrated noise.
“Fine! Fine,” says Florence, “but you do what I say and you let me do the talking.”
Patty makes a face. “When have ever done that for anyone ?”
“ Please ,” says Florence.
Patty raises her hands. “Fine, fine, fine. But no more running away from me.”
“I never ran away from you,” says Florence.
“Debatable,” says Patty.
Patty’s tangled their fingers together before they’ve even taken two paces. It’s a little surprising - Patty’s not one to shy away from touching per say, but she’s never been one for displays of affection. Not surprising is the slight quirk of Patty’s lips, the little smile she does to herself when she thinks she’s getting away with something. Florence’s chest feels tight, in a way unrelated to panic.
It is possible, perhaps, that she missed that particular expression on this particular face. Perhaps she even missed this particular woman.
She lets Patty keep holding her hand. She, perhaps, even grips Patty’s hand a little tighter.
Hector is still alive and Heard is not visibly trying to put him under arrest in any way, so it looks to Florence that things are as under control as she could have hoped as they approach the others in the alley. Heard’s hand goes to his holster as Patty comes into view, stopping as Hector raises a hand slightly. Heard takes a breath, his hand relaxing at his side.
“Patty,” says Hector warmly as they get closer.
Patty grins. “Hector! Looking pretty good for a dead guy!”
“Feeling pretty good,” says Hector, “although I wasn’t expecting you to be in town.”
“People have been saying that to me for years no matter where I go,” says Patty, “but I keep showing up.”
“So you do,” says Hector.
His gaze flicks down to their joined hands, and he blinks and then nods to himself.
“As much as I’m enjoying the reunion,” says Seals, “don’t we need to get out of here?”
The car ride is jumbled in Florence’s mind. Others worlds and travel mechanics and then Ryder- Chris - reminds them that she promised to help Finnegan and Apollo get away. Florence thinks of her daughter, walking through an empty house and finding a goodbye note addressed to someone else.
“I’ll come with you,” says Florence, “My daughter… well. I haven’t always been the best mother.”
Patty squeezes her hand. Florence’s cheeks flush as she realises that she hasn’t let go of Patty’s hand since she took it on their way out of the festival. Patty grins like she can read Florence’s mind, teasing her without words, any sting of it lessened by the way Patty relaxes her head against Florence’s shoulder until they pull to a stop by the riverbank.
Collecting Finnegan and Apollo is much less difficult than Florence had thought it would be, and the final climb of their journey is much more difficult. Patty pauses at the top of the staircase, her eyes not leaving Florence as she hands her gun to Chris.
“She needed it more,” says Florence quietly, as they head down into the dark stairway after Finnegan and Apollo.
“No, I know,” says Patty.
In the darkness, Florence finds her hand again and squeezes it. Patty squeezes back.
They emerge from a storm drain a little ways off from the Bluff City pier. Florence can hear the familiar early-morning sounds - people setting up food carts, the sound of joggers feet against the wet sand, tourists pottering around, peering in shop windows on their way to the casinos.
“We made it,” says Apollo.
Finnegan only nods, turning away from them slightly. Florence thinks he might be crying.
She hears Patty take in a breath, the preparation for words that don’t come. Florence looks down, looking at the flush in Patty’s cheeks in the morning light. She looks less sharp than she did in Blough City, but no less herself.
“We’re home,” says Patty.
Florence pulls Patty in close, her throat too tight to answer with words. A smile blooms on Patty’s face, as pretty and as bright as the sunrise.
Home.