AN: This is my first M/E fic (posted, not written) so I'd really love some feedback! This story is about the night Matt and Emily spent in Denver.
Much love to Becs, my amazing friend (sorry! As Lisa said in Frasier "Sometimes spirit just grabs me and I've gotta do it!"), Emma (luv ya girl!), Laura, Cara & Shan - My homies, what can I say? ; P
Please R&R!
Sparks
By Tricki
It had been one of those glass half full/glass half empty negotiations. Driving back to the motel in your brand new Vista Blue Mustang you were trying to convince yourself it was the former, not the latter, and you knew she was too. Having the HT blow himself away in front of all his hostages was rattling at best; and, when you and your partner had spent around thirteen hours each on the phone to him, you were both far beyond rattled. You were quite impressed that he'd managed to get to Denver - one minute you and Em were sitting in your Mustang, talking with the HT, who was parked in front of you with a car full of family members - three kids, his girlfriend, his sister and her boyfriend to be specific - and the next the HT had taken off and you were diving out of the car then racing towards the passenger's side while Emily was climbing into the driver's seat and you were trying desperately to reason with him. Normally there would've been roadblocks up withing a matter of minutes, but when the HT came up with things like "Stop me and I'll shoot everyone in the car" while pointing a gun at one of the kid's heads, you let him drive. Frank was arguing profusely that he could definitely hit the HT and not the kid on his lap but no one bought that (not even Duff, although he would never admit it). Even Frank was fallible at 75 miles per hour. While you were talking to him Emily had convinced Cheryl that it was safer to let him drive than to try and take him out along the way. You honestly still have no idea how she managed that because if you were Cheryl you wouldn't have wanted him on the road for a moment longer than he had to be - even with the five plainclothes cops now driving around him discreetly. It had been said on more than one occasion that Emily Lehman could convince some the sky was crimson, then talk them back again; you were particularly thankful for this skill during the course of that fateful negotiation.
Then there was the small matter of your own safety. Every day you quite happily trust Emily with your life, but having her chase after a psychopath in your new car scared the hell out of you; there were moments when you covered the mouthpiece on your headset and voiced this concern (not half as gently as you could have). You can still hear yourself yelling while bracing yourself against the dash board:
"Jesus, Emily! I've only had this thing for a week! Be careful!" And her snapping back
"Why don't you try telling the HT that? "Listen, my crazy partner's gonna smash my new car, so could you slow down? Or even pull over?""
After a while he had slowed down, and calmed down somewhat, and you and Emily had switched positions, making her the primary and you the driver, but the HT was still intent on getting to Denver to talk to his family about his girlfriend and children and why they wouldn't accept them (after outright turning down your offer to fly them down within the next two hours). Thankfully the hand off between you worked fine because at some point (while you were sniping at each other) he had asked who was with you...
"What the hell, Matt! Who's in the car with you?"
"What? Oh, that's just my partner, Emily." He seemed to consider this statement, and you weren't exactly sure why.
"You guys fight a lot?"
"We have our moments, but we're usually pretty good. We get along pretty well." You said, trying to conceal the confusion in your voice.
"She agree with that?"
"Lehman, you agree with that?" You asked, more than a little interested in the answer.
"Yeah, we're a good team. Except when I'm driving the love of your life."
"This car is not the love of my life!" You insisted defensively. Emily snickered disbelievingly and the HT seemed to laugh too.
"My girlfriend and I are like that. How long have you guys been partners?"
"Nine months." You said in unison before she mouthed the word "sorry". It took you a moment to realise what she was apologising for, then it hit: you were primary. This was your negotiation and she felt like she was interfering.
"How bout you and Sarah?"
"Six and a half years now."
"Wow. Long time."
"Yeah..." He agreed, dropping off reflectively. You covered your mouthpiece and gestured for her to do the same.
"Double him." You said, fumbling for your phone in the side pocket.
"What?"
"Both talk to him. It'll make it easier, you can take bits you're better at and I'll talk him through the rest."
"Okay." She said as you clicked the phone into the hands free set and put it on speaker.
"Why're you putting her through this, Dan? She loves you. It's been six and a half years, you have three kids. Forget your parents. You have your own family now."
"I ain't puttin her through any more than she's put me through!" He yelled. Shit. Step in the wrong direction...
"How long've they been in LA?" Em asked, clicking off the mic so the HT couldn't hear you.
"Six months."
"How old's the youngest?"
"Um..." You flicked through the intel file on your lap. "Ten months."
"Okay, be careful because I don't think the kids are his."
"Why do you - " You began, but were somehow tossed back into the conversation with the HT. As it turned out, she was right - well mostly right - the youngest actually was his. Sarah, the girlfriend, had decided that she wanted to try and make their relationship work (a comment which you thought was fairly ridiculous; she'd been cheating on Dan for three years, the relationship was clearly not working.) so they moved to LA to get a fresh start - of course Dan didn't know this was the reason for the move and when he had found out (two thirty am this morning while digging through a drawer) he had herded everyone into the car at gunpoint so that he could drive to Denver and confront the other man. When Dan reached the guy's house Sarah, much to your horror, took over the negotiation, taking the child from his arms and telling him that she chose him, that she loved him. Dan didn't buy it. In a split second he had uttered the words "You're lying" and turned the gun on himself. You knew that Dan's death was the most likely result of the negotiation, whether it was at the FBI's hands or his own, but you were so close to getting him to stand down... Moments like that always hurt.
Finally Emily broke you out of your mental dissection of the day.
"I like this song." She said, bending forwards and turning the radio up a few notches.
"So tell me, Miss F.B.I Shrink, what do you like about it?"
"I don't know. It's a sad song..."
"You don't like sad songs?"
"We get enough sad in the job." She said simply.
"Fair enough." You agreed, nodding thoughtfully.
"I guess it's partly the imagery."
"The imagery?" You smirked, raising your eyebrow at her playfully.
"I dunno." She shrugged. "The idea that you see sparks when you look at the person you're meant to be with."
"It's a little bit 'Fanfares and Fireworks', isn't it?" You asked, turning left, realising you were hopelessly lost and then praying to god she didn't know it too.
"Of course it is. The whole thing kind of is in an understated way."
"Okay, now you're speaking Shrink." She laughed at you and shook her head.
"I think I'm speaking Twenty Six Hour Negotiation." It was your turn to laugh now.
"Fair point."
"It's really honest, too." She said after a long silence.
"Honest how?" You asked, hanging another left and realising once again that you were completely lost. You just had to get the kickass speakers instead of the navigation system, didn't you?
"Well because he lost her, but he still loves her and he says that he won't let her down, but the echo - which is sort of like his subconscious - is admitting that he will, but he'll always look out for her. He's saying he's only human but he'll always love her and he'll always try to do right by her. It's sweet." You thought about what she'd said, about love and humanity and about the two of you - about how you tried to do right by her and how you spent too much time protecting her. After a few moments, you flicked on your right indicator and her voice broke into your thoughts.
"Left."
"What?"
"Left. Turn left here." You changed your indicator and swung the car in the opposite direction. It wasn't hard; your new pony was very manoeuvrable and just so damn fun to drive.
"How the hell did you know that?" You asked as you parked in front of the motel.
"Deputy drew me a map." She said, holding up the small piece of paper for a moment.
"Could've told me that when we started driving." You muttered.
"Where's the fun in that?" She joked, moving to slide the paper back into the folder in her hand.
"Hang on." You said, catching her hand then releasing it quickly when you both felt an unwanted surge of energy. You turned your eyes onto at the makeshift map. "Is that a phone number?" You probed, enjoying making her uncomfortable.
"Might be..." She blushed a little.
"The dweeby guy's number?"
"He wasn't dweeby! He was kinda cute actually." She smiled a little and you damn well knew that she had seen the flash of jealousy in your eyes.
"Alright. I get it. You have strange taste. So when're you gonna call him?"
"I'm not going to call him." She laughed under her breath.
"Aw, how come?" You said, mock sincerity and concern in your voice.
"Let's start with the fact that he's twenty and he lives three states away." She said, slamming the car door behind herself then running a hand over it affectionately.
"And he's a dweeb." She rolled her eyes.
"Since when does anyone over the age of twelve say the word "dweeb"?"
"Hey,If you get to speak Twenty Six Hour Negotiation then so do I!" You joked defensively, following her up the stairs to your oh-so-tacky, view of the parking lot motel rooms. By now you were both completely exhausted, but also pumping adrenalin to the point where you weren't sure you could sleep.
There was an awkward moment at the door, a conversation that centred on the phrase "You did good" and too much eye contact. You still can't remember exactly what was said but you remember the eye contact. You remember that a lock of hair had fallen over her eye, begging to be brushed back - begging you to brush it back - and you damn well remember the sparks of electricity and chain reaction that occurred when you gave in and tucked the lock behind her ear. The gesture had brought the two of you closer, making it all too easy for your lips to brush softly, then crash longingly. For a moment you'd started thinking how futile nine months of self control and discipline were, what a waste it all was, but your attention quickly turned to the woman in your arms. As the two of you backed into a wall, you wondered exactly how you'd managed to keep your hands off her for this long.
That kiss in a dingy Denver motel room was unlike any you'd shared since - it was a kiss full of exploration and curiosity, a kiss that was somehow slow and affectionate but fast and dripping with unbridled passion - with nine months of suppressed desire. The two of you had fallen gracelessly onto that garishly covered motel bed and hadn't gotten nearly enough sleep that night.
You kissed her gently until she fell asleep - later realising that this was so neither of you would have to speak - you didn't want to ruin the night with words and explanations. When her eyelids began to droop you pulled back a little, waiting for her to turn away from you.
"Matt?" A quiet, sleepy voice asked from across the bed.
"Yeah?"
"I saw sparks..." You smiled to yourself softly, kissed the side of her head and whispered:
"Yeah. Me too."
After a few minutes her breathing had fallen into an easy rhythm and it was then that you realised this might be the only time you would ever get to hold her, ever get to kiss her, ever get to inhale the sweet floral scent of her hair and then caress the silken locks with your fingertips; this could be the only time you would ever get to touch her bare skin.
Tomorrow this could all be over.
You pushed those thoughts out of your head adamantly and pulled her closer to you, further into your arms. Screw tomorrow, you had her tonight and you were going to make the most of it.
