Powerless… & Afraid
Setting: Takes place at the end of Powerless during S1.
Requires some degree of suspended disbelief as Dani clearly indicates in Trapdoor that she's never been to Crews house before.
(Call it artistic license – I played with the facts, but only a little).
Detective Charlie Crews watched mesmerized by the strength of the young woman they were putting in the ambulance. She sat stiffly on the gurney in her pale pink shirt and grey jeans. Her dark hair framed her face and her deep brown expressive eyes sought his and Charlie found he could not look away. She was stronger than iron and tougher than steel, but fragile in a way he'd just begun to appreciate.
Even as he talked to Bobby, even as the action spun around them, Charlie found himself drawn to her – to her eyes. By rights, she should have been unconscious from the astounding volume of liquor she'd just been forced to consume, but she remained upright through sheer force of will. She constantly and consistently amazed him.
He knew Reese could be intimidating, she could be caustic, smart and she could even be funny, a bit of a smart ass; but he never realized how damned determined and tough his diminutive little partner was until that very instant. The fact that she'd done it alone, on her own terms, with little help from him and the gaggle of burly, tactical officer in her front yard made him respect her all the more.
This case had shown him a side of Dani Reese he'd never expected.
It wasn't even really a case. Not like they usually got them. This one she'd found on her own, dug up, uncovered and resurrected. Her tenacity was powerful and spoke to something deeply personal that beat in the depths of her flawed soul. Under her fierce determination and resoluteness, she knew pain and it allowed her to tune into Rick Larson's ability to manipulate and his desire to hurt women. It was something knew intimately and Crews found wanted he to know how and why - in a way he thought he'd let go of.
He stood staring at her, wondering what thoughts were going through her brain. He watched as the adrenaline faded and the alcohol seeped in. Her eyes became glazed and unfocused. She allowed herself to be pushed into a reclining position and their visual link was severed. Charlie blinked several times realizing he could no longer see her. He felt hollow and empty without her there in the moment with him. Then she was gone, but he was left to deal with the mayhem that followed.
There was the response, the after action review – which the SWAT guys called a "hot wash" and that made him chuckle. Then there was the paperwork and while the uni's were nice enough to take Larson to Central Booking for his ten print cards and mug shots, the arraignment, the first appearance before the judge – that was all Charlie's. As late night gave way to the early morning and Larson's initial appearance and bail hearing loomed, Crews was dead on his feet. The court appearance docket was long and it drug on til noon.
Charlie was nearly numb from exhaustion as he retold the circumstances of Larson making bail for Nancy's rape and then going to his partner's house where the man held Dani Reese at gunpoint until she was able to get the upper hand. The judge listened patiently, asked a few pointed questions and remanded Larson to the County lock-up without bail. Charlie had to smile as they took the man away - again.
Charlie found the calm that had centered him throughout the crisis was rapidly evaporating, as he recounted the night's events to the judge. His lack of sleep and Charlie's ill-defined, but unfaltering link to his partner, which no matter how hard Charlie tried not to acknowledge was getting harder to ignore, began to seep into his consciousness. He realized that he needed to see her again. It didn't matter how tired he was.
It was visiting hours and there were other people who had come to see Detective Dani Reese, among them her mother and father. Charlie lurked out of sight not wanting to cause a scene with Dani's father and not yet ready to meet her mother, but when they left, he quietly entered her room. Lieutenant Davis sat in a chair in the room talking with his young partner, who was cranky to say the least. Davis shot him an exasperated look as Charlie tersely updated Larson's status to the both of them and Davis took her leave.
Charlie stood at the foot of her bed like a nervous schoolboy, no longer exactly sure why he felt he had to see her. She examined him clinically, but said nothing. There was an uncomfortable silence until he stopped examining his shoes and again sought her eyes.
The temperature in the room seemed to change and he noticed that she felt it too as he saw her face flush. "I wanted to see if you were okay….how you were doing… how you are," Charlie explained.
"I'm fine, Crews," she told him eyes never leaving his.
He wanted to ask her why of all the people in your phone, she'd called him, but suddenly just found himself grateful that she had. "You had us all pretty worried last night," he continued as the constriction in his chest eased with her statements. He realized he missed her voice.
"Yeah, well SWAT owes me a door," she groused.
"We'll get your door fixed. I'll get it done today." He offered.
"Not your job, Crews," she shook her head.
"It is my job," he told her. "You're my partner and that's what partners do – take care of each other," Charlie said softly, but holding her eyes. "Last night you asked for my help, so let me help," he gently pled his case.
"You wanna help me, Crews?" she shot him a dark look.
Charlie swallowed hard knowing she was about to ask him to do something he shouldn't, but he nodded.
"Get me out of here," she grinned at him.
"Ohhh, no," he began, but faltered when her look turned darker still.
She could see him thinking, considering, weighing his options. He decided he really didn't have any options, but to help her. "This is a bad idea," he warned, still shaking his head no, but moving forward with what she'd asked, knowing he was going to regret it. "Where are your clothes?"
"Davis took them," she shot back. "Said if she left them, I'd check myself out and go home," she smiled devilishly, "turns out she was right."
"Okay, but if we do this, you're staying with me until I get the door at your place fixed," Charlie negotiated his terms.
"What am I seven? I can stay my own house. I'm a cop remember?" she said while shooting him a dirty look for his efforts to control the situation and her.
"Non-negotiable, Reese. Your gun is in evidence and I'm not taking any chances," he held firm. They locked eyes, but his determined little partner blinked first.
"Okay," she relented, "so what's your plan?" she said quietly in a conspiratorial tone.
"First," he flicked open his ever present knife "we get rid of this cheap hospital jewelry." He joked, cutting away her plastic bracelet patient id. Charlie forgot where he was for a moment as he held her smaller hand in his and sliced away the plastic bracelet in a smooth motion and impulsively raised it to his lips and kissed it softly. Dani said nothing, but her arched eyebrows expressed surprise.
Charlie quickly released her hand and shrugged out of his jacket. "You'll need this, unless you want to start a riot, walking out of here in just that gown." He grinned at her slyly.
"Cute, smart-ass," she shot back, ignoring the flutter in her stomach when Crews lips softly brushed her wrist. She slid off the bed and let him drape the jacket behind her, patiently waiting for her arms to find the sleeves. She was enveloped in the warmth and unique smell of her partner; it was powerful and immediate. He held his suit coat by the lapels controlling her.
"Hey," he said quietly drawing her attention to his eyes and his mouth. "We do this my way, okay?" he tugged on the lapels, gently, but firmly, trying to get her to agree.
"Not likely, Crews." She said with a subtle hint of a smile.
He placed a chaste kiss on her forehead. "What's with all this kissing, Crews? Word is you don't need the practice, Casanova."
"Forgive me for caring," he said suddenly serious. "Does anybody get to care about you Dani?"
She blushed furiously and ducked her head. Charlie looked down too and found himself staring a tiny little toes emblazoned with cherry red nail polish.
"Your shoes?" he inquired.
"Davis took them too. Bitch knows me too well," Dani grinned again.
Charlie realized he liked her more and more all the time. She was tough, but it was affect. Inside he thought she might be more gentle and fragile than she wanted anyone to know. She had a devilish smile she rarely displayed, a caustic wit and a wicked sense of humor, but she wasn't silly like the girls in the mansion. He sensed the man that could make Dani Reese giggle would have purchased that right with an investment he wasn't ready to make just yet. But something in her awoke in him the desire to try.
"All right, but no complaining when I have to carry you across the parking lot," he warned with a bright smile. He knew she'd hate it, but she wanted out of the hospital that bad and he had her over a barrel.
"Stay here. I'll check to see if the coast is clear," he said, stepping away from her. She missed his presence almost immediately, surprised to find how quickly she'd become accustomed to him being there – inside her personal space.
He peeked in the to hallway, looking left and right, before beckoning to her with his outstretched palm. He was a bit shocked to find her smaller hand in his again.
The slunk together down the glistening polished corridors of the hospital to the elevator bank and only when the doors closed did their collective sigh of relief fill the compartment. It made both chuckle, the synchronicity of their action. Realizing he was still holding Reese by the hand, he dropped it and she moved a half step away. They were close, too close for both of them.
When the door opened in the parking garage, Charlie already had his keys in hand and looked expectantly at her waiting for the verbal barrage to begin. She eyed suspiciously and then rolled her eyes, giving in without a word. He swept her up, noticing how light she felt in his arms. There's nothing like a petite woman to make a man feel like a strapping brute, even one as lean and taut as him, he thought.
He strode through the parking lot and pressed the button unlocking the car doors before he actually arrived there, "get in" he directed in a deeper voice than he intended, as he set her down gently.
She did as instructed without comment, slinking low in the seat like she was still afraid of being caught. After he climbed behind the wheel, he told her "put on your seatbelt," and at this she scowled, but also complied.
"Pretty bossy now aren't you?" she commented, snapping the belt in place.
"You haven't seen me drive," he commented with a smile and sparked the car to life with its throaty growl echoing deeply in the dark garage, like a dragon in a cave.
He stepped lightly on the gas and the car lurched with its eight cylinder straining to race free. He negotiated the tight confines of the parking area carefully and when they emerged into the sunlight he allowed the car to have it's head and accelerated into traffic, neatly negotiating the corners until he entered the freeway and really let go.
The acceleration of the car was impressive and her partner clearly enjoyed driving it. Dani smiled at the intense paces he put the car through. Crews didn't just enjoy driving the car; he relished it. For him it wasn't about being in control; it was about running all out, it was speed, it was freedom and that she completely understood.
They arrived at his house sooner than expected and he looked over to see her reaction to the mansion, only to find her asleep, warm, safe and secure with him. Deep within his psyche Charlie felt a dangerous emotion awaken, desire. And it engendered in him a need to protect his fierce determined little partner; one he knew was going to become more pronounced in their time together. He stuffed it deep down inside himself and made up his mind to guard against developing an attachment to her - for her own sake.
While his partner slept in his huge bed, he visited the hardware store and bought the things necessary to fix her door. It had been a long time since he'd done any home repairs. Nowadays he had some one else to do almost all manual labor tasks for him, but he realized now how much he missed feeling useful and working with his hands. He noticed as he focused on leveling and straightening the door all his other concerns fell away. There was something very Zen about toiling with his hands and he was incapable of thinking about anything else as he did it.
He returned home as the sun set to a cell phone full of angry voice mails, it hadn't taken them long to figure out he'd sprung her. But that was partly why he left the phone there in a drawer sandwiched between two sweatshirts, so it wouldn't distract either of them. He ignored them voicemails and drove Reese to her place.
Their ride back was quiet and uneventful. She commented on the car and he told her that he wasn't attached to it, which earned him a "yeah right" comment and a smirk.
He realized that he actually enjoyed her company and it had nothing to do with sex. Sure she was attractive, but she was also witty, wry and generally a good rider, despite her insistence on always driving at work. She never felt for her imaginary brake on the passenger side floorboard as he hit the apex of corners and accelerated out of them taking the long way back to her apartment.
He was trying to understand what changed between them when it dawned on him – why she called him. It was trust. She trusted him to be there, to come to her, to drive without killing them both. It made him feel both powerful and intensely afraid. The last thing we wanted to do was to let her down or to get her hurt and that made him swallow hard as he pulled to the curb and handed her the key to her new lock.
"I put a deadbolt on the door and chain on the inside. Use them." He said sternly.
She nodded, and then paused, unsure of what to say, but clearly wanting to say something. When she looked up and spoke it was to the windshield and not to him.
"What you said to Nancy about not knowing how strong that experience made you," she queried and glanced at him seeking acknowledgement that he followed, "you weren't talking about her were you?"
"I was and I wasn't," he gave her a non-answer answer.
"You were talking about prison," she said sure in her statement.
"I was talking about prison," he admitted and looked away through the windshield himself. "Hate really is a prison. Even if what you hate is yourself," he offered her a truth that they both needed to recognize.
"Hmmm," she mused quietly examining her folded hands and the new keys she held.
"Thanks for the door," she said shyly.
"It's only a door," he demurred.
"The only way you leave a prison is through a door," she offered as she cracked the door and left the car. He watched her as she walked away and he realized he truly was powerless; she held his heart in her hands and there wasn't a damned thing he could do to stop it.