Roni loved her costumes. For Halloween, she'd suggested the wait staff do a group costume, pick a movie and select from there. Melody didn't know the others too well; some of them hung out off hours but more often than not, schedules didn't allow it. If one person wasn't working, the others were.

She, Marie, and Colette had the day shift for Halloween. They'd decided on the Muses from Hercules, dawning white dresses and fancy hairdos that allowed for fluid, easy movement on shift. It worked well, except now on break Melody stood in the restroom messing with the intricate braids she'd done in her hair. The white dress she'd chosen went to her knees, flowing whenever she turned, and she'd tied two thick ribbons of gold around her wrists. However, their one flaw came by way of the fact that they were waitresses wearing all white.

She'd done well. Nothing had stained her dress yet, and Melody only had another half hour before she got off at six. If only her hair would cooperate. She tugged on a new hair tie. It would have to do.

Ducking back inside, she scooted across the surprisingly busy bar to the areas just for employees. She had a little less than five minutes left on break. After tucking her phone away into her backpack and fixing her dress, she clocked in on the tablet and attached her name tag.

Henry still sat at the bar. She shuffled over, going to stand behind the bar while Roni spoke to a couple at the other end. "How are the drinks so far?"

He glanced up. He'd been running a finger around the rim of a shot glass and forced a smile as he noticed her. "Well, Roni's been doing a pretty good job. One of them could've used a bit of cinnamon."

"I'm sure she'll take that under advisement," Melody said. She grabbed his empty water glass and refilled it. Don't Fear the Reaper started playing over the internal speakers and she paused a moment to smile at the ceiling. Good choices for Halloween. But then Henry sighed, and she turned back to him. "You okay?"

He sighed even deeper, sitting up from his slouch and shaking his head. "I don't... I don't know."

"Do you have plans for tonight?" she asked. "Party or something? Might get your mind off whatever is bothering you."

Henry shook his head. But he smirked at her. "You sure you and Roni don't team up to give the same advice?"

"Nope, but great minds think alike."

He snorted out a small laugh. After taking a small drink and a deep breath, he shook his head. "What about you, though? You lucked out, got the early shift."

"Yeah, it's nice." But Melody didn't have plans either. "I don't know what I'm doing after this, though. Marie said she's going to a party with some friends later." With a small flick of her hand, she gestured to her blonde coworker, cleaning a table in the corner. "Not sure I've got the energy for a full Halloween party though. I'd rather just hang with friends."

Henry agreed. "Yeah." Then a tiny smile broke his frown, Henry taking a sip of the alcohol he'd been testing for Roni. He looked at her, pointing at her chest. "Why not hang with Rogers? I know he's off in a few minutes."

Melody glared at him. She poured herself a shot when Roni wasn't looking and downed it in one gulp. "Why don't you go find Jacinda? She's on shift and would love a visitor."

"Point taken." With a small laugh, he shook his head.

They fell into silence, Melody still slightly blushing at his insinuation. Leaving Henry to nurse his drink in peace, she turned to cleaning tables. There wasn't long left for her. While using the three-compartment sink in the back to clean the plates while in a white dress wasn't the easiest task in the world, it was the quietest. She set to work.

When she finally finished, Roni came into the back. "You're three minutes over, Melody. Clock out."

"Sorry!"

She hung up her gloves and dried her hands, hurrying out of the kitchen into the back room. She punched out. Melody looked down. No stains, just some water on the skirt. A win.

When she stepped out into the bar, she noticed two things. One, Henry had left. The second, Detective Rogers had just stepped inside. She caught his attention. It didn't escape her that he took in the full Muse costume and for a moment she felt quite foolish. He hadn't dressed up. He just wore his dark clothes that seemed to be the only thing he owned.

"We dressed up as a group," she scrambled to explain. "Team bonding sort of thing."

But Rogers just laughed a little. He shook his head. "Greek goddess?" he guessed.

"Close. One of the muses, from Hercules." As she shifted her backpack onto her shoulder, she just looked around the bar. It had started to thin out. "You have news?"

He shook his head. "No, Henry mentioned you were off early today. I figured I still owe you that drink."

"That you do," she said. Melody broke out into a grin and shook her head. "I'm starving." They grabbed a seat at the couches, Melody letting out a contented sigh as she stopped standing on her feet. Even in nurse-grade tennis shoes, seven-hour shifts killed her. "How was your shift? Weaver still being a jerk?"

He snorted out an unamused laugh. Accepting the water put down in front of him by Emile, dressed as a Lost Boy, he sat up and nodded. "He's not exactly a people person. How he got his position..." Rogers shook his head. "Maybe we should be looking into him as much as Belfrey."

Melody didn't respond at first. She thanked Emile for her own water then sat in silence, sipping at it. She hadn't told Rogers, or any of them, of Weaver's threat the other week in Hyperion Plaza.

"You know something, love?" Rogers asked.

She glanced over. He was watching her closely, almost scrutinizing each movement as she put her glass down on the coffee table. "Just that he's good at his job and doesn't hesitate to mess with anyone who gets in his way." She sighed. "I don't know, Rogers. Something in me trusts him, but then he goes and..." She trailed off. But when Rogers prompted her, Melody turned directly to him. "He spoke with me the day you stopped Belfrey's contact. Told me to stay away from Belfrey and from you. Said it was dangerous."

Rogers straightened up. "He threatened you?"

"I don't know! He just told me to back off." But she didn't want to talk about it. "I'm starving, let's get some food."

With a frown, he let the subject drop. Instead, they flagged down Emile and placed their orders. She got a small pizza, and he a burger. With a rum and coke to accompany it, she relaxed. It helped to get some food in her stomach after her shift. It made her less stressed.

"When's your next day off?" Melody finished up her pizza. As Rogers chewed his food, she apologized. She hadn't meant to catch him off guard. "I was just curious how hard the hours are as a detective."

He shrugged. "About as bad as being a cop, love."

"Fair," she said, laughing a bit. "Well, if you get a day off and want to spend it by the water, Golden Gardens is my favorite spot. You should go some time."

He nodded. With a tight smile, he finished off his drink. "Aye. Maybe I will."

"Sometimes I bring my guitar," she told him. "It's quiet there. Especially when it's colder. I write songs at the water. Something about it, it helps."

"You write your own?" Rogers asked.

Melody straightened up. With a small frown, she intercepted Emile with the check before she ever answered Rogers. He tried to protest, insisting he had owed her for the free therapy, but she shook her head. "You owed me a drink, not a whole meal. I've got my half." She handed him the check after placing her own credit card in the sleeve. "As for songs, yes and no. I used to. Not so much these days, and no one hears them."

Rogers handed the check back to Emile with both their cards. "Why not?"

"They're not very good," she told him. Melody folded her arms across her chest, trying to hide even though all she had was a white summer dress on. The muse outfit betrayed her, made it hard for her to hide. "I don't let anyone read my poetry or my songs."

"Well, I'd love to see them," Rogers said.

She glanced up, locking eyes with him. He offered her a tight smile. He meant it. She could tell. But whether or not he meant it didn't mean as much as the fact that she didn't want anyone reading her written word. Not yet.

Melody offered him a small smile back. "Maybe someday."

After signing their checks, both stood from the table. They bid goodbye to Roni, the woman busy putting the finishing touches on some of her drink concoctions for the night rush. Melody pulled on her thick black coat and beanie before leading the way out into the cold. The sun had set, the darkness filled with laughing, sugar-hyper kids as well as the normal sounds of the city's rush hour.

As they stood out in front of Roni's bar, neither spoke at first. Rogers turned to her, but his phone rang, and he put it up to his ear. Melody couldn't hear who was on the other line, but it couldn't have been good based on his rapid responses. When he hung up, he shook his head.

"What?" Melody asked.

He stuck his phone in his pocket. "Weaver. He's been shot."

"What!" Her eyes widened. Someone had shot Detective Weaver? "When?"

"They took him to the hospital twenty minutes ago. I'm to meet them there. The suspect called it in." He moved quickly down the street, heading across to the precinct, Melody in toe. "It was Tilly."

Melody sputtered out a protest. Tilly was many things, but a murderer was not one of them. Even when the girl's mind was particularly upside down, she didn't hurt people. She just saw the world differently.

"Can I come?" she begged.

Rogers eyed her over the top of his car as he lingered at the driver's side. She didn't budge from standing beside the passenger seat. After a moment, he just nodded. "Get in."

She didn't need to be told twice. Melody ripped the door open, tossing her backpack to her feet and sliding into the leather seat beside Rogers. Moments later the car engine rumbled and they set off towards the hospital.

With the car parked, they hurried inside. It had taken a good half hour to get to the hospital and when they got there, they found Tilly pacing in the hall. She was muttering to herself, tears on her face and blonde hair sticking to her cheeks. A nurse spoke to her, voice low. The girl stopped her frantic movements, accepting some pills thrust her way. Rogers reached them first. Melody hung back, standing by a vending machine to let the detective speak with their suspect.

Despite the circumstances, Melody couldn't help but smile a bit watching Rogers with the young woman. He spoke quietly, quiet enough that she couldn't hear the words. But it seemed to help. Between Rogers' words and the medication, Tilly quieted. She stopped pacing. Rogers took her arm gently and moved her to a chair. As she sat down against the wall, movements slower, he crouched down and said a few more words.

When a doctor entered the hall, Melody moved to join them. Tilly stayed sitting, her head against the wall but her attention on the doctor. Rogers stood up.

"He's going to be fine," the man said. He held up a baggie and gave it to Rogers. "That's your ballistics."

Rogers thanked him. "When is he going to be conscious?"

The doctor shrugged, stroking his brown goatee in thought. "Anywhere from half an hour to an hour from now. By all accounts, it should've been a lot worse than it is. It's a goddamn miracle."

Rogers nodded. "Right."

As the doctor left them to check on his next patient, Rogers looked closer at the bullet. Then he turned to her. "Can you stay here with Tilly?"

Melody nodded. "Of course."

He left them without another word. Left with the quiet young woman, she took a seat opposite her on the other side of a magazine-covered side table. She seemed a million miles away. Melody didn't say anything at first. Neither did Tilly.

"I didn't mean to kill him," she said. "I just, I was trying to remove his mask."

She looked closer at the girl. Her blue eyes were still wet with tears. Melody reached across and grabbed her hand. "Hey, it'll be okay. I'm sure Detective Weaver won't hold it against you."

She didn't know that. Weaver was temperamental on a good day. But if he had a soft spot for anyone, it was Tilly. And now that the girl had been sedated with pills and didn't have a gun to cause any more harm, she hoped Weaver would let her off with a warning. Tilly needed friends, not jail.

"I should'a taken my pills," Tilly muttered. She bumped her head against the wall. "I don't like being small but it's better than hurtin' Weaver."

"You'll take them next time, Tilly."

She nodded, as much to herself as to Melody, if she had to guess. They fell quiet again, surrounded by the sounds of the hospital like gentle machine beeps and hushed voices. Rogers returned a few minutes later, gathering the story from Tilly of what had happened. Melody listened intently. The girl had been trying to show him something, some sort of puzzle piece that she still couldn't quite articulate. But she hadn't been on her medicines, that much was clear. She even mentioned jumping out of a moving car sometime before shooting Weaver. Clearly, she'd been more than a little mixed up.

"Detective Rogers, he's awake."

They all turned at the nurse's voice. She stood by a counter, clipboard in hand. Rogers told Tilly to stay with Melody before following the nurse down the corridor, the bag with the bullet in his hand.

Tilly stayed quiet. Melody watched her, remembering something she'd heard Weaver say about the girl. That she loved games. Looking around, she tried to find something to engage the young woman with. Her gaze fell on a chessboard across the room. She retrieved it.

"Do you know how to play?" Melody asked her.

Tilly glanced down. At the sight of the chessboard, she visibly brightened, straightening up in her chair and a small smile replacing her frown. "I love games!"

"Good. Let's start then."

They played for a few minutes. Before they got very far, however, Rogers came back into the waiting room looking equal parts amused and frustrated. He beckoned Melody over. "Why don't you go talk to him. Might really cheer him up," he muttered.

Melody broke into a grin. "What did he do that makes you purposefully want to make him mad?"

Rogers just scoffed out a laugh. "I told you, love. He's not a great people person." But then he nodded to Tilly, where she sat playing with a chess piece and looking at the board. "Tilly's off the hook though."

"Well that is good news. Now if you don't mind, I think I will go check in on the man who provides half my weekly performance money."

Rogers laughed, telling her his room number before sitting down across from Tilly. Melody spared them a small glance. Tilly looked terrified at first, but soon relaxed as Rogers spoke to her. She left them be.

She knocked quietly on the door to Weaver's room before heading inside. At her entrance, he just lay back a bit deeper into the pillows. "What do you want?"

"To see if you were still breathing," Melody said. She kept her voice light, leaning against the door as it closed behind her. "I was with Rogers when he got called here. I came to see how you were."

Weaver let out a small, breathy laugh. He shook his head. "Why am I not surprised. Well dearie, you can rest assured I am perfectly fine."

"I'm sure you'll be back on the street in no time, terrorizing the neighborhood and dropping cash into my guitar case," she agreed.

"My you really are enjoying this, aren't you."

"Enjoying it? no. Making the most of it? yes." Melody offered him a smile. She shuffled her feet. "You're not going to yell at me again for fraternizing with your partner, then?"

"Miss Black if I thought more threats were gonna work on you, I'd use them." He shook his head. "No, something tells me that you and Rogers sharing dinner is the least of my worries these days."

Melody chuckled, shaking her head. She watched as Weaver fiddled with the bullet that had torn through him. Perhaps the near-death experience had softened him, unlike what Rogers had told her.

"Balloons or flowers?" she asked.

"Excuse me?"

Melody smiled. "Do you want balloons or flowers? I figure I owe you something for passing me that money on the street."

"Neither. Now get out of here before I make a nurse do it for me," he snapped.

Definitely not soft. Melody grinned, nodding, putting her hands up in the near in self-defense. "Alright. Suit yourself. But don't say I never got you anything."

"Get out."

She did so. Letting the nearly orange wood door close behind her, she started down the hall. Rogers still sat with Melody. At her approach, though, he stood up. "He didn't try to take your head off, love?"

Melody laughed. "What can I say, Weaver may not be a people person, but clearly I am." She looked at Tilly, who had straightened up and seemed a bit more coherent. "Could just be that he can't move very fast right now though."

The girl didn't respond, but Rogers did laugh at her joke. "Ready to go then?"

"Yeah, I think so." She looked at Tilly. "You wouldn't happen to know Weaver's favorite color Tilly, would you?"

"'Fraid not." She looked confused. "Why?"

"Oh, no reason."

Rogers eyed her suspiciously, but he didn't say any more. They just bid Tilly goodnight, reminding her to stay safe, and then headed down to Rogers' car. Melody couldn't help but break into a fit of giggles as they got into the car though.

"What?" Rogers demanded.

She looked at him, pulling the passenger seat closed. "Do you think Weaver would be more annoyed by balloons or flowers?" At Rogers' surprise, she laughed. "You're right. I'll bring both."