i never thought i would wake up in bed/ watching the world coming down on my head/...i'm not going to swallow the lie that i'm fed/ 'cause i want the world coming down on my head

Yellowcard, Down on my head

The sun had sunk behind the tall city buildings outside the windows but it wasn't quite dark yet. The lights were starting to flicker on across the city, and Stella had just arrived for the night shift. She had volunteered for the overtime last week to help pay off the credit cards bills she was accumulating.

Besides, it gave her an excuse to avoid Drew. He didn't like taking no for an answer, which was one of the reasons she had broken it off with him in the first place. Nothing whatsoever to do with what Flack had said about him... or with whatever happened after that.

Stella looked up as a knock sounded on the door jam. Speak of the devil. He looked a lot like he had the last time she had seen him, the week before in the middle of the case of the murdered little girl. If anything, the shadows under his eyes had deepened.

"Stell," he said and glanced away, taping the file folder he held against his leg. His weariness showed in the way his shoulders slumped.

"I did some more interviews with the family in the Donaldson case. Looks like the relationship between the husband and wife wasn't as peachy as she made out. And he had a fair amount of life insurance."

She felt her stomach clench. "Okay. You re-interviewing her?"

"Yeah," he looked up, watching her carefully. He held out the file and she reached out to take it. "Tomorrow. You wanna come along?"

She opened the file and tried to read it. She couldn't seem to make sense of the words on the page. "No, I'm off at six," she said absently.

When she looked up at him he was still looking at her from underneath his brows. "Listen, thanks for this," she said, closing the folder and handing it back to him. "I'll look over the evidence again."

She moved towards the door, towards him, and he obligingly stepped back into the corridor. As they stood together for a moment just outside her office, he spoke again. "Stell, Mac knows- about last week."

She frowned, glaring at him. "You told him?" She crossed her arms over her chest. It was easy to blame him for this mess. He was the one who stuck his nose in her business in the first place.

"You think I would tell him that?" He glanced around for a moment and then turned back to her. His jaw clenched. "One of the lab techs saw me grab you. I swear..." He stopped. His eyes blazed but she knew none of his anger was directed towards her.

"I'll deal with him," she said, feeling a little better that he was suffering.

The overhead lights flickered on around them, and she took a step backwards in the new glow. The gap between them widened. She pressed her lips together as she looked at him. Shaking her head, she turned and walked away.

But she didn't get far.

She head the familiar steps behind her and he easily caught up to her. She stopped, knowing he would only follow her till she gave up. He stepped alongside her, turning to face her head on. "We need to talk."

She waved her hand. "I've already forgotten about it. Let's just drop it, okay?"

He shook his head, and when she glanced up at him she could see the irritation in his eyes. "No, I can't."

Looking around again, he took a couple of steps forward and reached out, turning the knob of a nearby door. Opening it, he looked in and, apparently satisfied, indicated that she should proceed him into the room.

Raising her eyes to the ceiling, Stella complied. She recognized the shelves of supplies, not just from years of working at the lab, but the ten minutes she spent there five days before. He followed her in, closing the door behind him.

She heard him flick the switch but nothing happened. He tried it a few more times before he gave up. The only light was the dim evening glow flowing in the small window and the bright florescence filtering in around the door from the corridor.

She walked a little further forward and turned back to face him. Crossing her arms once more, she watched as he casually tossed the file folder he was still carrying on a shelf. "Well?" she asked, one eyebrow raised.

She thought he sighed, but it came out as more of a growl. "Look, Stell, I'm trying to fucking apologize here, okay?"

As her eyes began to adjust to the dim light she could just see the irritation and anger etched on his handsome face. "Then say it and let's get the hell out of this room."

He paused, clenching his fists at his sides and looking down and to the side. She remembered what it was like to have him grab her. A red mark had shown up around her arm by that evening, but she had deliberately covered it up. It would have raised too many questions for him, and she knew he hadn't meant to hurt her.

She watched him as he tuned to face the shelving. "Unless you aren't really sorry," she said, eyes narrowing. She threw her hands up and then let them fall to rest on her hips. "I never saw you as a diplomat, Flack."

"Look," he said, turning on her and taking a step forward, eyes blazing. She took a backwards step and her shoulder blades hit the wall behind her, stinging a little. "I'm sorry I grabbed you. I had no right to lay a hand on you. None. Don't you think I know that makes me no better than them?"

"You went digging in my business," she spat back. "You had no right to do that either. Didn't stop you either time."

He took another step forwards, crowding her personal space. "I did what I had to Stella, why can't you see that?"

She shook her head. "You didn't have to do anything, Flack. You chose to do it, for whatever reason."

He took in a deep breath, and seemed to take all of her air into his lungs. "Tell me you broke it off with him," he said seriously, his body just inches from her own. His words were calm, but temper was still etched across his face.

"And that is still none of your business," she said.

He searched her eyes for a moment in the dim light. "So you did?" he asked, although his body relaxed just slightly as if he already knew the answer. "I'm sorry Stell, but he wasn't... good enough for you."

His calming demeanor only served to agitate her further. "And who is, in your estimation, Detective? Someone who has never stepped a foot wrong in his life?... Or maybe you?"

And suddenly everything that had appeared between them last week was right there again, out in the open. She watched as his eyes narrowed and she felt a thrill run down her spine. Her traitorous mind wondered, just for a moment, what it would be like to be possessed by this man.

She shook her head. "This isn't getting us anywhere. Let's just drop it, okay?"

He turned and took a couple of steps away before stopping, hands at his sides. He sighed and faced her, his mouth set in a grimace. "You're still angry with me."

"Yes I am! You interfered in my life, where you had no right to be interfering. You forced me to end what was a very pleasant relationship, and you still haven't apologized!" she said, her voice raised.

For a moment he said nothing, and she crossed her arms in a huff. Then he spoke. "Just pleasant? Who wants pleasant?"

He took a step towards her, and another, and, almost hypnotized by the dark look in his blue eyes, she stayed where she was. Reaching up he placed his hands flat on the wall on either side of her shoulders. Then he leaned in close, placing his mouth near her ear.

Though still angry, she couldn't hold back the shiver as he whispered in her ear.

"I can beat pleasant."

Then he drew back a little, just enough so that his mouth could come crashing down on hers.

He was right, there was nothing pleasant about this kiss. It was a battle of wills from the first. She poured all of her anger into it and he just took it, giving back to her as good as he got.

And it was good. Stella felt her knees weaken. She could hear nothing beyond the rush of blood in her ears, could barely think, and the only thing she could feel was what this infuriating man was doing to her with his lovely mouth.

She had been kissed by more than a few men in her time- including Drew, who had left her distinctly unimpressed. She seemed to remember this excitement, this frisson of nerves. But maybe time had dulled her memory, because she hadn't expected anything so... intense.

He kept his hands on the wall, and she let hers flatten against his chest, feeling the way it moved as he breathed. Almost against her will, they slid up to his shoulders, gripping his shirt, pulling him even closer.

They broke apart and he moved away just a little, leaving her feeling bereft. His breathing was slightly heavier and he was grinning.

"I'm not sorry for that either," he said.

Insulted, she felt her anger rising again and her lips curled into a sneer. Before she could say anything, he kissed her again. It was different now. He took his time, slowly seducing her with his mouth.

When they came up for air once more, she sighed just a little and kept her head tilted back so she could look him in the eye. After a moment he brought one of his hands to her face, stroking her hair with the back of his fingers. His eyes were serious.

"I'm sorry if I caused you pain, Stella. But I can't regret it."

And as the city sank into darkness, and bright artificial light, they stood together.

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Thank you to the many people who sent me reviews begging (or threatening me) for a sequel. I hope this matched up to your expectations.

There may or may not be more to this. If so, it won't be posted till December because I'm doing NaNoWriMo this year and need to concentrate on that.