Happy's Lament

Chapter Three

"The Guy With The Spunk"

Toby always knew that Happy was a tough motherfucker. He saw her scale buildings by her fingertips, zipline without a harness, and smack the bejeezus out of trained Marinessoldiers. She kicked his own personal ass more times than he could count in the few years he'd known her. But Toby had never seen her as strong as she was in that moment, staring him down with the ferocity of a lioness. "I can do this myself," she said, somehow making it sound like a threat. Everything in Toby wanted to say forget it, I'll do it - I'll take this from you and carry this weight. But he knew he couldn't, even if she would let him. Nothing he could do would lessen the severity of the blow he just gave her. There was no nice way of saying, 'Hey Happy, sorry to tell you this but you were drugged, assaulted, beaten and from what I saw when I was poking around down there, this isn't the first time.'

He never thought their first time would be a gynecological exam. A plastic speculum wasn't exactly what he thought he'd be inserting, that's for damn sure. He always thought maybe their first time getting up close and personal with each other's genitalia would be, well, romantic. Maybe up on the roof. Maybe with some candles and a few stars in the sky. Real teenager-y stuff. Not like this. Never like this.

"You don't have to," was all Toby could sputter under Happy's glare. "I will do everything in my power to help you," he managed.

"Thanks, Doc," she said emotionlessly, "but you fulfilled your purpose. Now get the hell away from me."

She turned and disappeared into Walter's bathroom, the door slamming shut behind her. As soon as she was out of sight Toby fell onto the bed, his hands shaking like three days without betting. God, he couldn't do this. He couldn't watch her take this alone. He was helpless and he hated it.

But this wasn't about him, he reminded himself. This is about Happy. And if he can't fix her, he'll fix it so she can do it herself. That, he had a possible chance of doing.

Toby gathered up the spent kit, throwing out the rubbish and tucking the samples he took carefully into his bag before heading down the stairs two at a time. "Sly," he called, "Buddy, I need you to pull up all surveillance footage you can surrounding Happy's building, okay? Whatever you find, send it to me and only me."

Sylvester stopped sipping a milkshake out of a massive Big Fun Guy cup, confused. "Okay," he said, "but why only you?"

"Because I said so," Toby clapped him on the back, "Keep it between just you and me, alright pal?"

Toby grabbed the keys to Walter's car off his desk, ignoring Walter's protests, and stepped out into the blaring Los Angeles sunshine. Walter's hunk of junk he liked to call a vehicle was parked beside Paige's shiny new now-that's-what-I-call-a-car, and the door creaked painstakingly when Toby opened it. Careful of the inconveniently situated spring in the seat, Toby started the engine and pulled out into traffic with one hand. With the other, he dialled Cabe.

"What in the hell are you bothering me for, Toby?" Cabe grouched when he finally picked up.

"I need your badge and directions to the Homeland DNA lab."

"Toby, I am not giving you any damn thing until you explain -"

"Cabe, it's for Happy. Something happened to her. You gotta trust me on this."

There was a moment of quiet, and Toby could hear the distant noises of a John Wayne film in the background. "I'll meet you outside Homeland's Head Office in twenty. And Toby - you're going to tell me what's going on when I get there, right?"

"Of course, Agent Gallo, I wouldn't dream of keeping you in the dark." Toby snarked, hitting the hangup button.

Toby zipped somewhat illegally through traffic and got to Homeland with ten minutes to spare. He waited with the radio blasting so loud it shook the car's frame, trying to drown out the angry, desperate buzzing he'd had in his ears ever since Happy said the words "rape kit'. He never wanted to hear that word come from Happy's mouth, ever. And he fact that it did...it made him want to kill someone.

"Have you ever heard of noise pollution, jackass?" Cabe grunted when he got out of his SUV beside Toby. Toby turned the music off and got out, slinging his bag over his shoulder.

Cabe was dressed to impress, hair slicked back, shades on, shoes polished. Staring at Toby like he let one rip in the middle of the lord's prayer. "What happened to Happy?"

"I can't tell you." Toby started walking to the doors, and Cabe followed without hesitation. Toby knew he was going to do what he wanted regardless of how much of an ass he was being.

"Can't or won't?"

"Both."

They spiraled down to the Homeland laboratory with Cabe flashing his badge at anyone who batted an eyelash. Toby pulled the samples out of his bag and went right in like he owned the place.

"I need you to tell me who's spunk this is," he announced, getting the attention of every lab-coat-wearing idiot in the joint. A tiny blonde woman in her mid-thirties came up to him and said, "I'm the head of the department - and who exactly are you?"

"I'm the guy holding a swabful of semen and telling you to run it through your little database and tell me which particular Angelino it belongs to and why it was hanging out in my friend's cervix. Oh, and congrations by the way - head of the department, I know your mom is really proud of you. She wouldn't give you that necklace you're wearing otherwise."

The woman looked at Cabe, who nodded and raised his badge. "Do what the good doctor says."

Running out of steam, Toby handed the samples over to the woman and pulled up someone's wheely chair, taking a seat in the middle of the room. "I''ll wait here."

Cabe touched Toby's shoulder. "Happy..." he said, and Toby nodded. That was all that needed to be said between them.

It took nearly an hour for the results to come back, and Toby waited in that chair, staring them down until it was finished. "The toxicology report came back positive for rhohypnol," Dr. Winsor told him, passing over the papers, "A lot of it. And your DNA sample is from a man named Brian Connor, a parolee on two counts of sexual misconduct. His last known address is in Pasadena."

Toby took the results and left the lab without a word. Cabe followed suit, and when they were outside Toby finally started talking a mile a minute. "Alright, you and I are going to Pasadena to get this son of a bitch. You got your gun, right?"

"Always," Cabe said, but caught Toby's arm before he jumped into the SUV. "Listen kid, you need to get your head on straight before we go into this. You go in guns blazing and you might get yourself killed."

"I'm fine," Toby muttered, pulling away. "I just wanna get this guy."

As Cabe headed towards Pasadena, Toby called Sylvester. "Hey pal, you got anything for me?"

"I have all the available footage from Happy's building, as well as all the surrounding buildings. I am sending them to you right...now. Toby, what's wrong with Happy? Did whoever is on this video...hurt her?"

Toby hesitated. "Yeah, buddy, they did. Tell me, how...how does she look? Is she doing okay?"

"She was upstairs for a long time, but now she's just welding. Very loudly."

"Okay, good," Toby smirked, "Keep an eye on her for me, alright Sly?"

"Of course."

Toby hung up and threw his phone onto the dash. "Hey, Miss Daisy, the gas pedal's on the right. Speed it up, Grandpa."

"Do not take that attitude with me, son."