Re: Savannah/G
"Or, Charlie is a cagey old coot who retired from the Miami fire department five years ago and scowls at the kids playing on the sidewalk outside his house, making too much noise, destroying the neighborhood. But, he's also the first one off his porch and at their defense if there's trouble. Mothers and nannies love him and he'd never tell anyone but he's secretly touched by the baked goods they insist on bringing over just because they have extras."
G shook his head, dismissing his own spur of the moment description. That wasn't Charlie. Hers wasn't exactly Charlie, either. "Now, Charlie Donovan, he's just a working class guy who wanted to do a little good in the world. He thought about working for the local PD, but he had bigger dreams than that, wanted to change the world. So, he went to work for the government. His favourite bar is the neighborhood pub where there's a game always on and the food doesn't require beer to be edible. Not much for politics, he's earned his way up by being a solid, honest worker. And, no, he doesn't always smile, but he has a sincere voice that people respond to and he takes time to listen when they talk. He loves crime novels with attention to factual detail, but hates cop shows because most of them get it wrong. And there just might be a girl down at the pub he's had his eye on for years, but is too shy to speak to because a pretty, sassy girl like her is never going to look twice at an Average Joe investigator. So, he tells her he loves her in large tips and quiet thank yous when she serves him his Guinness."
Taking a sip of beer, he shrugged. "Out there, yes, that's who I'd be. Charlie Donovan. It's not for everyone and there are relatively few people who are really good at it. It's necessary sometimes. Better to don a persona and go undercover for information than to risk people getting hurt in a head on confrontation." There were other reasons, of course, but that was the easiest to explain. Certainly easier to explain than how welcome it was for him to put on somebody else's life than his own.
"I wouldn't ask you to." She had a long way to go before she could handle an undercover assignment. If he was lucky, he'd never have to do more than take her out to a crime scene and let her analyse evidence in the op center. Keep her out of the field as much as he could. Although, he had to wonder, if she could tell the 'old perverts' in the Boosters were undressing them with their eyes, how had she missed Westen's once over? He wasn't going to disabuse her of the notion nothing could be as bad as that, however, not if he didn't have to.