<span style="color: #FF80FF"> <span style="font-weight: bold"><span style="font-size: 150%; line-height: 116%;"><div style="text-align: center;">Lea Stevens</div></span></span> </span><br/><div style="text-align: center;"><a class="postlink" href="http://i300.photobucket.com/albums/nn24/SociallyToxicBeauty/036e0d3a-b28c-47ec-b858-0eaea6c67e4d.jpg">[ img ]</a></div><br/><span style="font-weight: bold"><span style="font-size: 150%; line-height: 116%;"><span style="color: #FF80FF"><div style="text-align: center;">"Jazz"</div></span></span></span><br/>Lea paused in her eating as she listened to Carlos, her eyes staring at her food and her expression blank aside from the slight quiver of her chin. It meant a lot to her that he wouldn't go through that box, that he would wait for her to tell him. She wasn't sure if she'd ever be able to get the whole story out at once. but maybe if she gave him smaller pieces over time she'd be able to share it all with him. She didn't know.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">"I guess I should leave the force. Make something different. Maybe PI or bounty hunter. Something were nobody will treat me like the last shit," </span>Carlos said as he wiped his chin free of sauce. Lea looked up at him in surprise. She had known that being a police officer wasn't easy for Carlos because of his race, as it hadn't been easy for her as a woman either--but she had not known that he wanted to leave.<span style="color: #FF80FF">"What?"</span>she asked, her voice tinged with the surprise she felt.<br/><br/>Watching Carlos eat was mildly amusing, he had never exactly been a clean eater when it came to Pedro's food, but his words contrasted greatly with the image.<span style="color: #FF80FF"> "But what about getting up in the ranks? I thought you wanted to get promoted to detective?"</span>she said, her memory flooding her with everything Carlos had told her in the past. She had thought he would have been a detective by now and she realized that maybe that was why he wanted to leave, but she didn't want to make any assumptions. It had been less than a year since she had been out of the force, but she had known there was supposed to be a promotion coming across Carlos' desk. She had never told him because she thought he would like the surprise.<br/><br/>When she had first seen Carlos in the club, she didn't think about how he was still a street cop--it had completely passed over her how he should be a detective by now. Did he get passed by because of her? Or was it because someone in the force had a disliking for him? It made her angry and her fist gripped her fork so tightly that her knuckles had begun to turn white and her hand had started to shake.