Disclaimer: I don't own anything to do with Republic of Doyle. If I did, it would imply that I had probably met Allan Hawco which means I would have died of happiness and therefore I would not be here, writing this.


Que je sens de rudes combats !
Contre mon propre honneur mon amour s'intéresse :
Il faut venger un père et perdre une maîtresse :
L'un m'anime le cœur, l'autre retient mon bras.
Réduit au triste choix ou de trahir ma flamme,
Ou de vivre en infâme,
Des deux côtés mon mal est infini…

- Corneille, Le Cid (1637)


Jake sat on the cot, his head crooked up at an awkward angle and he stared blankly at the ceiling. He emotionally exhausted, the ups and downs of the past few weeks were painful, more painful than the numerous punches his face seemed so attracted to.

Now, sitting is the cell, waiting to go to jail for who knows how long, he knew he had proved Leslie right. He caused trouble, they caused trouble together and it was better to be apart. It had to be better to be apart, there had to be some reason for the torture.

For some inane reason the situation reminded him of a play he had read back in high school, grade twelve French. His stony exterior cracked just a little as he laughed at himself, Jake Doyle, for referencing a play. He still remembered it, all these years later, the battle of love versus honour and duty. "Père, maîtresse, honneur, amour." Father, lover, honour, love.

He loved his job, doing what he did. It was his duty to himself and to the people of St. Johns. In a way too, it was a duty and an honour for his father as well. But Leslie...His love for her had changed him, made him a better man. Or so he liked to think. Was there a way to have both without hurting her...without hurting himself?

The sounds of light footsteps jolted him from his literary reverie and he turned his stiff neck to see Leslie's beautiful face through the bars. He couldn't help himself and he smiled widely.

"You're a sight for sore eyes."

She returned the smile; it was strained but soft and gentle. "Don't you be getting used to it."

"I don't think I could ever get used to it."

She looked slightly confused.

"Your beauty astounds me, knocks me over. I don't think there will ever be a time when I don't have the wind knocked out of me when I see you."

"Jake, now you're just talkin' pretty at me."

"Maybe, but it's true."

She smiled and moved closer to the cell, wrapping her hands around the metal bars separating her from Jake. She knew she could just open the door, go it and sit with him. She knew she could open the door and let him out...it was oh so tempting, tempting to let him out, run far away and walk off into the sunset together. She knew she couldn't.

Why was she even here?

"Why are you here Leslie?"

She was surprised at his question and didn't know the answer herself. She just wanted to see his handsome face one last time. She wanted to take back the words she had said in the hospital. She wanted to do something crazy. She wanted to forget everything and just be with him. "I just wanted to talk to you, I guess."

He was silent, waiting for her to continue.

The need to say something was so strong but her head told her not to. "I just had a few questions; for, uh, your file."

He knew better, but played along. Love was winning the age old conflict at the moment. "Sure."

She made up a few questions and Jake answered them with a twinkle in his eye. She knew he knew now, and smiled, shaking her head. She didn't even try to hide it, she wasn't even writing things down. But it was an excuse, an excuse that both of them needed and held onto for dear life.

Eventually, the uniforms came to take him to Her Majesties Penn., they nodded to Leslie, unlocked the door and led Jake out. He looked pointedly at the men beside him and then towards Leslie.

They knew the gossip that went around. "Alright, but be quick about it."

With the two uniforms at his sides, holding his arms, he leaned in, smiled that heart stopping smile of his and lightly kissed her on the lips. "Don't miss me too much with all the free time you'll have, not getting me into trouble."

It was a taste of heaven, of hopes, dreams and the future. Her heart skipped a beat, and then another. "I won't." But she would, more than she could admit to herself and certainly more than she would ever admit too him.

She watched him as he walked down the hall and stood staring long after the doors closed. Finally, when she could admit that he wasn't coming back, that he wouldn't magically come swaggering back; Leslie closed her eyes and let her head rest against the cool metal bars of the holding cell. The cold metal felt nice, it soothed her pounding head when nothing could soothe her aching heart.

In her head, she knew she had said the right thing in the hospital. She had told him that it was better if they were apart. But was it better or was it just easier? It was easier to do her job and think nothing of it. It was easier to close off her heart. It was easier to casually go out with nice enough men, hoping she would be distracted enough to not notice Jake Doyle. But, she was always drawn to him and him to her. Seriously, why did he have to look so good in a Tux? Then, she blushed remembering what he looked like when he was not wearing anything at all. That image was burned in her brain, not to be forgotten that any time soon.

Unfortunately, he also attracted trouble and her job was to rectify said trouble. How many times did she have to put the man she loved in handcuffs, put him in the back of her car, interrogate him, lock him up? There was a play in high school that she had read, what was the name? Le Cid. That tug of war between what was right what was love had lasted the centuries since the play had been written and she could only imagine that conflict had been around long before that play as well. Did you really have to choose?

She had chosen love the year before, not just once but twice, and both times her honour and her reputation had been destroyed, her job and her life taken from her. Was it worth it? "Un même coup a mis ma gloire en sureté, Mon âme au désespoir, ma flamme en liberté." The same [death] stroke has placed my honour in safety, my soul in despair, and my passion at liberty! She had her job and her life back now but the hole in her heart was wearing her down.

She wanted so badly to join the two halves of her life, her heart and her head. But she didn't even know where to begin. She had run away so many times that they had never really talked before, did they even really know each other. What would life be like when they were together as boyfriend and girlfriend or as hus...no she couldn't even say the word. She dreamed sometimes that they were together, happy and without complications, but they were just dreams. Her love was behind bars now, her heart locked away as well as the man himself. Could she free them? At what cost?


A/N: Let me know what you thought, especially after last night's episode :)