Warning: Spoilers for 4.11 - Child's Play. I've rated it T for language and some sexual references.

Disclaimer: They aren't mine and I'm not making any money from this.

Author's Note: Not sure where this came from (it's not a style I've written in before) but thanks to sallyjetson and notesofwimsey for their help and encouragement. Hope you enjoy it :)

Blame

He was right of course, I had been a fucking ass. And as an aside, I'm not sure when he got to be such a fucking know-it-all and start acting all grown up. Anyway, he was right. I had been pushing Lindsay away...OK, and him as well. Still, after yet another night spent pouring beer down my throat and feeling sorry for myself I finally admitted it was true. Then of course I knew I had to go and admit it to her. I nearly didn't. I nearly went for the 'act as if everything is OK' option. You know, buy her some flowers, book us a table at a fancy restaurant, that kind of shit, but then my fucking conscience, or as he's also known, Det Don Flack (but not Jnr - he hates the Jnr) would have pointed out (had I asked him) 'that sort of shit' doesn't work with Lindsay and never has. Wise ass. So instead I went to the coffee shop she likes, bought her a double decaff latte (well she likes it - I guess someone has to) and a bagel and went to her apartment early the following morning. I thought it was pretty good of me considering my head hurt like fuck.

I stood outside for a few minutes trying to get up the courage to go in and see her and take whatever grief she felt she was entitled to dish out. Wrong time of the year to be doing that really and I have to admit bits of me were starting to feel as if they were about to fall off...some of them important bits, if you know what I mean, certainly bits that hadn't been getting any action since I decided to behave like a jackass. I was about to cross the road when I saw them. It took a few seconds for my eyes and my brain to agree with one another but once they had I had to accept that it was Lindsay I could see hugging some guy...and that the guy who she was hugging and who was hugging her was Flack.

I could have gone across the road and started yelling at them - he might be bigger than me but I reckon I could have given as good as I got - in fact I was about to when something struck me. Could I really blame her? I've been a bastard for weeks now. Sure, straight after Ruben died I had good reason to feel crap but as Flack so kindly pointed out (several times) there comes a point when you are wallowing, when you are allowing yourself to feel bad just because it's easier than accepting it was a terrible accident and moving on with your life. I have to admit, the first time he suggested that I tried to hit him, but then I'd drunk a lot of beer and he hadn't drunk anything so all I did was fall on my face. Made me hate his guts for a day or two until some of what he was saying started to make some sense.

Anyway, it stopped me in my tracks. I wanted to feel angry; I wanted to punch him into the middle of next week; I wanted to scream at her but instead some annoying voice in my head just kept saying, 'Can you really blame her? Can you really blame him?' What was even more irritating was realising I couldn't blame either of them. Maybe she would be happier with him than with me. So I dumped the coffee (can't stand that latte crap) and ate the bagel and walked away, feeling noble and grown up and as if someone had ripped my insides out. Didn't last long - well, the feeling of my insides being ripped out did, but the noble and adult bit disappeared pretty quickly and then I just felt mad as hell; who the fuck was he to move in on my girl; and what the fuck was she doing running around with my best (make that ex) friend?

Of course it would have to be the day when I'm paired with Stella. Stella who can sniff an emotional crisis at 100 paces. I think I probably upset her with my attitude...ok, I KNOW I upset her with my attitude. Looking back I can see she was genuinely trying to help when she asked if I was OK. Telling her to keep her nose out was bad enough; adding the (two) expletives wasn't really necessary I guess. I had provocation though - Flack and Lindsay were paired together. Talk about rubbing salt into an open wound.

Come the end of the day I was looking for someone or something to punch and so I went looking for them. I tried Flack's phone - it went to voicemail. I tried Lindsay's phone - it went to voicemail. The images dancing through my mind at that point were XXX rated and I was fully prepared to do 20 years for assault if I could lay my hands on that Irish bastard. I went to her apartment. I stood outside listening and I could hear them...I could hear them talking. Couldn't hear what they were saying and it was mostly Flack talking. In my mind at this point I'm blaming him totally - he seduced her with those eyes and that smile and that Irish blarney and now she's regretting it, telling him she still loves me and that it has to end and he's persuading her she's done nothing wrong, that it's all my fault (mine, not his, although it is his fault, the bastard). I wanted to kick the door in, was about to kick the door in, when it opened. Took me by surprise which, looking back, was probably a good thing - stopped me from saying, or doing, anything too rash. Anyway, he takes one look at me and laughs and turns to Lindsay to say something like, 'Well, this has saved you a trip.'

Now the initial surprise has worn off and I'm too pissed at this point to just shut up. I can't remember exactly what I said but it was something like, 'What the fuck are you doing here, you bastard', which wiped the smile off his face and seemed to make him grow another 6 inches. His response was something like, 'Looking out for a friend', but at that point Lindsay inserted herself between us, looking as mad as hell. From my point of view I think she's fucking gorgeous all of the time, but when she gets mad like that her eyes get this sort of glittery effect and it's exactly how she looks when she's ripping my shirt off because she wants sex. Anyway, works for me and so in the midst of all of this, as I'm trying to hang on to some (as I thought) righteous anger, I'm getting a hard on, and I really don't want to be staring at Flack at a time like that.

Anyway, it took Lindsay thirty seconds to work out I thought she and Flack were something more than friends, and only another ten or so to put me right and the long and short of it was I'd got it wrong (no big surprise there). Flack had gone to pick her up to take her to the crime scene because her car was in the shop and the hug was because she was feeling upset that I'd gone yet another night without calling her, and before you say anything, yes, I KNOW it's obvious and I'm sure you guessed as soon as I told you. What can I say? Love makes fools of all of us. Some more than others, as Flack kindly pointed out.

Still, a crate of beer and an abject apology sorted things out with Flack; Stella took a bit longer and I'm not totally sure that Lindsay didn't encourage her to make me suffer for longer than she originally intended me to. As for Lindsay...well, we got rid of Flack and I was jumping through hoops for a good couple of hours before she took pity on me. I'm just glad it was only a couple of hours otherwise I doubt I'd ever have walked in a straight line again. All levity aside the damage is still there but talking to her about what happened with Ruben has really helped and I know now that talking to her when it's getting to me is a better option than shutting her out. She's given me a second chance and I'm determined not to fuck it up. If I do, I'd only have myself to blame, wouldn't I?