Disclaimer: The characters, and the premise upon which they are based, do not belong to me. I occasionally like to have a little fun at their expense; please don't sue me.
Author's Note: I was toying with the idea of creating a piece where Angie had her "duh" moment, and while also thinking about my friend's fantastic "foster pet" program. Then, my brain went into overdrive as I thought about Louis Ferreira's love for dogs, too. Needless to say, we ended up with a weird mash-up of sorts. I hope you enjoy it!
P.S. - There's about three paragraphs written in italics that are meant to be somewhat of a flashback.
P.P.S. - Prompts? Please let me know. If I can't tackle it, I know someone who typically is. (*wink wink, nudge nudge, Skylarcat*) On that note, please be an active participant in this community. The only payment we get is the lovely readings, writings, and reviews we have from one another. PLEASE TAKE THE TIME TO DO SO! If you're nervous, give me a shout out. I'd be more than happy to proofread, beta, say hello and offer encouragement with a plateful of electronic brownies.
Finished with their questions for the trembling young woman, Angie and Oscar thanked the witness for her cooperation and permitted her re-entrance into the quiet residence. Turning toward her partner, she chewed carefully at her bottom lip as she watched him raise his eyebrows in question and shrug his shoulders ever so subtly. The two spun on the porch and made their way carefully down the wet stairs; a hand at the small of her back as he popped open an umbrella to lead her through the rain back to the vehicle. Stopping at her side, he waited patiently for her to climb in behind the wheel before he rounded the trunk towards the passenger side.
Just as he was quickly pulling the door closed in the downpour, Oscar's phone began to ring loudly from its dry home inside his pocket. Brushing the dampened curls back from his forehead, he retrieved the device with his other hand to figure out who was calling. Angie observed carefully as the curls bounced back and sent a droplet of rain falling from a dark lock of hair, subsequently landing with a small splash on his thumb. She was busy watching as his fingertips whitened and blushed in time as they tightened and loosened around the phone as his hand moved up toward his head; blinking in confusion as his soft voice broke through her consciousness.
"This weekend would be great," Oscar spoke through a smile. "No," he continued, "I promise I won't stand you up this time."
Angie frowned as she pulled away from the curb, mentally trying to piece together with whom he could possibly be conversing as she strained to hear the muffled voice that sounded distinctively feminine. Listening to the small chuckle that emanated from his side of the vehicle, she was startled by the sharp pang of jealousy that coursed through her veins like lightning - sudden and unexpected, painful upon impact. Her eyebrows knotted in concern as she unwittingly bit down hard on the flesh of her lower lip, gasping in pain as her teeth pinched too tightly as the car rolled to a stop at a red light.
"You okay, partner?" Oscar asked with genuine concern.
Flicking her eyes quickly to her friend, her breath caught in her chest as her heart pounded quickly in her chest. Angie cleared her throat as her eyes flicked back to the streetlight as it turned green; "Ye - yeah, of course. I just remembered that Manny was coming home this weekend, so I need to remember to pick up a few groceries," she fibbed smoothly - or so she hoped. Staring at the chrome bumper of the SUV in front of them, she focused intently on slowing her ragged breaths as they drove through the streets of downtown before pulling in at the precinct.
As the two entered through the front of the building, stopping at the elevator doors, Angie's steps stuttered as she hung back beyond the threshold. Hiking a thumb over her shoulder as her other hand stilled the closing of the sliding doors, she waited for her partner to turn around in the small space and face her before she spoke her intentions. "You go ahead; I'm going to check in with Betts and then I'll head back up. Girl stuff," she spoke gently as she smiled brightly at Oscar's grimace.
Thrusting his hands into his pockets after punching the appropriate button for the bullpen, Oscar just blinked as he nodded his head. Watching him slowly disappear, she let her eyelids fall closed in silent relief as she turned to jog down the stairs toward the morgue and the keeper of the wisdom that she sought. Betty's brand of coy and over-the-top affection had never suited her well, personally speaking, but there was something to be said for the doctor's unreserved audacity. When she wanted the cold, hard truth, Betty was her go-to-girl.
Said go-to-girl was currently standing with her back turned and swaying her hips to the light jazz pouring out of the speakers as she peeked through the microscope on the far table in the lab. Angie paused briefly in the doorway as she smiled at the scene before her, walking in and perching upon the tall stool next to Betty's desk behind her computer. As Betty spun to jot some notes on the file behind her, she jumped in surprise as she spied the blond curls over the top of the screen. "Really, Detective?" she asked, jokingly annoyed, as she placed a comforting palm over her chest, stilling the low hanging silver pendant hanging from her neck.
Angie poked her head up and flashed a sheepish smile at her friend. "Sorry," she mumbled sincerely, chewing lightly on her thumb nail as she was unable to initially make eye contact with Betty. Out of the corner of her eye, Angie saw her friend quirk an eyebrow in her direction while folding her slender arms over her chest, bangle bracelets tinkling with the movement. When Angie finally looked at the redhead squarely, she was surprised to see the how Betty's curious look quickly transformed into one that resembled pity.
"Oh, honey..." Betty began, blinking through a sympathetic smile.
Eyes wide in surprise, Angie dropped her fist to her lap. "What?" she asked innocently. Rubbing her palms down the length of her thighs over the coarse fabric of her jeans, she tried to calm her nerves as she prepared for Betty's barrage - that surprisingly never came. "Seriously; what?!" she questioned the doctor again through raised eyebrows.
Betty spun her chair to sit down delicately, folding one hand on top of the other displaying a fistful of silver rings. Angie was momentarily distracted by the curious wondering of how such elegance thrived in such a gruesome environment when the silver glinted and gleamed under the desk lamp to her left. Thumbing an ornate band thoughtfully, Betty squinted in scrutiny at the woman as she waited patiently.
"Oh, my God. Stop!" Angie cried, throwing her hands up in the air as she launched off of the stool on the other side of the table. Pacing back and forth, she tried to string the words she wanted to say into a coherent statement. The words, like the butterflies in her stomach, flitted about her mind; teasing her as she attempted to catch them in the net of a coherent thought. "Youwereright. Damnit; Youwereright, youwereright, youwereright," Angie breathed out quickly, opting for the Band-Aid approach to speaking in this situation: quickly, and hopefully, though not likely, relatively painless.
Betty didn't even attempt to hide the smirk that began to emerge on her face, finally giving way to a full smile. Licking her lips gracefully, Betty folded her fingertips toward her palm and exhaled a warm breath upon the glossy, red polish before buffing them lightly near the plunging neckline of her charcoal grey sweater in jest. Eyes tracking the blond-haired detective's movements, she sat quietly as she waited for the pacing to slow to a stop as Angie turned to face her with her head hung low against her chest for a moment.
"Don't ask me when, because I don't know, but today - today was the day the dam broke and the waters flooded every Godforsaken fiber within me," Angie ranted, gesturing wildly as she spoke. "Don't ask me how, because that man - God damnit, that crafty, infuriating, patient, ingenious man weaseled and burrowed his way so far deep down inside of me. All the alcohol in the world couldn't flush him out," she finished. Blowing out a deep breath, her pace slowed as she crossed back and forth a few more times before falling onto the stool with a sigh.
Watching Angie breathe quietly for a moment, Betty decided she needed to ask the question she had been dying to know, but believed wholeheartedly that her friend had subconsciously avoided. Whether Angie had even entertained the question remained to be seen; as guarded as she was, Angie was definitely still a woman who wore her heart on her sleeve. "Ang - sweetie - I think we know the real question: why?" Betty asked the worn down woman seated in front of her.
"Beats the hell out of me," Angie began. "I mean, of all the women -"
Shaking her head emphatically, the words died on Angie's lips at Betty's movement. "No, no. Why now?" the redhead asked quietly.
Uncertain of whether or not she wanted to vocalize her feelings, Angie concluded that she needed to admit it aloud for it to finally become true. Like an addict, she rationalized; admitting you had a problem was the first step to solving said problem. Initially finding the thought silly, it only took a few seconds to realize that comparing love to an addiction was probably the most apt and fitting description for the current situation. Heroin, cocaine, countless others had the ability to thrill you and kill you all at once; the tragic beauty of the high constantly drawing you back again for more, feeling invincible, all while knowing that you would never survive the crash and withdrawal, and emerge from the other side unscathed as the same person who entered.
"I'm - I'm...," Angie paused, closing her eyelids tightly as she steeled her nerves against the frustrated tears that threatened to spill out of her. The sharp jealousy that had stabbed at her earlier this morning had since been replaced with a sweeping flood of uncertainty and defeat. "I think I may be losing him," she breathed out softly when she reopened her eyes, as if the very utterance of the words extinguished the hope that had once been ignited inside of her. Unable to bear another look of pity from her friend, she stood quickly and flew through the stainless steel doors.
Running up the stairs, she took them two at a time as she climbed floor after floor, nearly knocking over a few innocent pedestrians along the way. Stopping on the landing outside of the bullpen, Angie breathed heavily as she attempted to conceal her efforts to catch her breath while walking through the glass door. Spying her partner's empty desk with the exception of the suit jacket slung over the chair, she spun on her heel to catch the attention of the diligently working Lucas seated a few feet away.
"Where's -," she paused to swallow and breathe deeply, "where's Vega?" she asked the younger detective around what felt like a mouthful of cotton.
Lucas looked up at her, startled by the intrusion, shooting her a confused glance as if the words she had spoken had literally bounced off of his forehead rather than falling upon his eardrums. As he furrowed his brow, he glanced between her and the empty desk of Oscar Vega as he attempted to figure out what had just transpired, making no connection between the two. "Uh...," he uttered quietly.
Angie huffed loudly, shoulders sagging, as her breathing slowed. Turning back toward her desk, she continued toward the break room in search of a glass of water when she heard the distinctive timbre of her partner's voice. Striding toward the room, she slowed her pace as she realized the increase in its volume was to be attributed to his incoming, rather than the other way around as she closed in on him. Stopping short of the open doorway, she paused to listen carefully.
"I don't want to rush into this, you know? I plan to see her again tomorrow, so we'll see how things go from there," she heard him sigh around the corner. "She's special, but I don't know if I'm ready for that kind of commitment," he admitted to the person on the other end of the line.
Falling back against the hard wall behind her, Angie threw her head back as she mentally kicked herself for how stupid she had been. Oscar Vega was a great man - a patient man - but those qualities were hardly mutually exclusive. A patient man could only wait so long for someone to come around, and if he were also a great man, it wouldn't take long for him to be snatched away when his patience had finally worn thin.
As she overheard him wrap up the conversation, her eyelids snapped open as she pushed off of the wall to return to her desk. Just as she had fully extended her arms to achieve her desired goal to return to her desk, she was startled by her partner appearing in front of her with two mugs. Extending one towards her, he blew lightly across the edge of his own mug and took a small sip. Consciously stilling her trembling hand, she reached forward to accept the proffered beverage, her fingertips ghosting across his and lingered momentarily. Comforted by the light touch and aroma that was a pleasant mix of coffee and his distinctive aftershave; she returned the small smile he flashed at her before he turned to return to his desk.
Following her partner, she returned to her desk as well, she settled into a long, boring day of paperwork behind the desk - every able bodied officer's dream. Blinking blearily at the clock on the monitor in time to see the minutes flash as the time flicked to 6:18, Angie threw her pen down with a sigh. "If I have to spend another minute filling these damn things out, I swear I'll gouge my eyeballs out. With a spoon," she exaggerated as she stretched her arms above her head. Hearing her partner chuckle, she turned to face him and watched affectionately as his shoulders bob with laughter as he straightened a few sheets of paper to slip them into a folder.
Oscar Vega - the detective - was cool and collected, exuding quiet confidence and professionalism. The ice to her fire, the two couldn't have been more different if they tried. Oscar Vega - the man - while not altogether different, still occasionally surprised her as he revealed snippets of himself that proved to her that they were not as polar opposite as she had originally thought. Granted, she realized soon after they had started working together that she would need to wait patiently and observe carefully, for few people ever saw beneath his exterior.
He was bred from affluence and class, whereas she was...quite simply, an afterthought. Revealing on their third case together that she could empathize with a delinquent youth who had been caught between his father's thirst for booze and his mother's craving for attention, repressed memories came bubbling to the surface as she recalled her own father's neglect and her mother's parade of men. While she knew she wasn't a shining example for Manny, she at least attempted to shield him from the shallow men that riddled her past and teach him how to respect women in a way that she had never been shown.
"That, right there, is not what I wanted for my life, so I'd rather die alone than let my son endure the same," she had whispered quietly into the dark surrounding the park bench on that night so long ago, more than a little embarrassed by her past. The letters of the words blew out in puffs of condensation as she folded her fingers underneath her thigh, one leg wrapped over the other to preserve warmth in the late night chill. As the blues and reds of the emergency response vehicles danced across their profiles from the distance, she shivered more at the memory of coming home from school to her mother screaming in hysterics at her father's lifeless form as she was hoisted away by two uniformed paramedics.
"He could never find the bottom of the bottle," she explained softly as her consciousness returned from its trip down memory lane. "Mom never recovered, but thought if only she could find a worthy replacement, she would never have to miss him. As I'm sure you have pieced together, she never did, but that didn't stop her from trying," she finished sadly. "Must have been nice," she threw out as her chin nodded in his direction. Finally glancing toward her partner, unsure of what to expect, Angie was certainly surprised when she was met with a small grimace and a slight shrug.
"Money doesn't buy happiness," Oscar replied as his eyes flicked toward her, then back out into the distance. She watched him carefully as his eyes squinted as if he were searching for something in the vast darkness, and then they dropped to his left hand as it smoothed his tie down his chest. "And it certainly doesn't buy love," he spoke tensely, voice thick with experience, as his fingers fidgeted with the sharp angle of fabric. She wasn't prepared for the cutting edge of his voice, but immediately recognized the hurt that was buried deep within his remark. Angie would soon discover that while her partner was not a complicated man, Oscar Vega was far from one-dimensional; a fact that equally surprised, saddened, and even pleased her.
As her mind swam back to the surface of the here and now, she was met with the sound her partner clearing his throat to her right. Turning to greet the noise, she was also met with the small smirk and bemused expression on Oscar's face as he stood propped against the edge of his desk, one foot crossed over the other as his arms folded in against his chest. As the silence stretched between them, she watched as his eyebrows flicked up as if asking her a wordless question.
"I'm sorry, what?" Angie asked in confusion.
Bright teeth shined back at her as his amusement shown through. "I asked if you would like to go to dinner, or if you were expecting to eat with Manny tonight," he tried once more. At the mention of her son's name, Angie was briefly confused as she tried to figure out just why she would be planning on Manny coming home.
"Manny?" she questioned, head slightly askew.
"You did mention that he was coming home this weekend, didn't you?" Oscar asked.
In that moment, Angie closed her eyes in resignation and decided that if she could have crawled in a hole, she would have in a heartbeat. Speaking of heartbeats, hers was no longer simply beating. No, she realized, the simple cadence of her heart had sped up to the point that she genuinely felt like her body was vibrating; pulsing with excitement; with nerve; with fear. As she stood at the line of possibility between friendship and the all-elusive 'something more,' she quickly realized that couldn't imagine surviving this. The reality of the situation was this: either she would die happy and blissfully content when everything came together nicely, or - the dreaded or - she would die from embarrassment and heartbreak; obviously one being significantly more rewarding than the other.
At the very moment she felt that her stomach was about to give way, Oscar's soft-spoken voice broke through; "Ang - did you forget that he changed his mind and decided to come home next weekend instead?"
Angie clenched her teeth in frustration with herself; frustrated that Oscar not only could read her so well, but that the nice guy that he was meant he was still willing to let her off the hook. Angie looked down to stare at the neatly aligned tiles of the floor as she addressed him. "I can't; not tonight," or 'any other night' her mind threw at her. "I just - I need to go," she replied quickly as she looked back up to face him. As she turned him down, a piece inside of her broke as she stared intently into her partner's saddened eyes. She may have been the more expressive of the two of them overall, but she had always believed that his eyes spoke volumes in ways that words could never be spoken. Unable to hold his gaze any longer, she clicked off her desk lamp and walked quickly through the exit, opting for the stairs instead of waiting for the elevator.
By the time the sun rose the following morning, Angie was lucky if she had slept even two hours straight through and was thoroughly exhausted. Mentally scolding herself, she rolled over to watch the curtains flitting carelessly in the breeze of the early hour. The dance of the curtain reminded her of a plastic bag in the wind, untethered and weightless as it carelessly sailed through a world heavy with burdens. 'Thank goodness for Saturdays,' she thought, rolling back over and snuggling deep into the soft cotton cocoon of warmth around her.
When she awoke a couple hours later, she only felt a small bit better as she glanced at the clock. Sighing softly, she figured she might as well get up and prepare for the day of nothingness ahead. Oscar had been right; Manny did plan on coming home next weekend, so she should probably make sure she was prepared for his arrival and subsequent stay over the long weekend. Unfortunately, without a teenage boy living at home, cleaning a home that inhabited one - especially one who was rarely home - did little to chip away at the hours of the day. Never in her wildest dreams had she ever imagined a time when she would wish away a weekend, but there was a first time for everything, she supposed.
Just as she was stuffing the last of her pillows back into the freshly laundered pillowcase, Angie's phone began to ring on the other side of the room. Stilling her movement, she stared at the phone for a moment in uncertainty before tossing the pillow toward its assigned place and crossing the room to check the display. OSCAR VEGA flashed up at her as she frowned, contemplating whether or not she wanted to speak with him; no, not wanted, but whether or not she was ready. Following her departure last night, she figured she wouldn't hear from him again until she walked into the precinct on Monday morning to continue business as usual, and a large part of her believed that such an approach was for the best.
A moment later, the phone chimed in her hand to signal that she had received a voicemail from him. Perching herself upon the edge of the freshly made bed, the responsible side of her mind screamed at her to listen to the message for the simple reason that she needed to be available if a case came in. Closing her eyes against the bright sunlight that had filtered through her window and reflected off of the mirror against the wall, she listened as Oscar's voice came through the speaker.
"Hey, partner - no case, so don't worry. I was actually calling to see if you were busy this afternoon. Since I'm fairly certain you probably settled for cereal for dinner again last night, I thought I'd spoil you with a decent lunch - you know, one that doesn't involve high contents of food coloring and sugar. You know where to find me," his message ended.
As his message concluded, Angie's mind flashed to an image of her smiling partner with his phone to his ear. The image alone, now coupled with the sound of his voice, was enough to send her stomach into a frenzy once again as she struggled with her emotions. This emotional roller coaster ride had to come to an end, she decided; either she loved him enough to tell him how she felt, or she loved him enough to let him go. Regardless, Angie figured she had to move forward one way or another.
Chewing nervously on her thumbnail, Angie clicked a button to return his phone call, pulling her thumb from her pink lips to tug lightly on the small pendant around her neck. Suddenly, her motions stilled as Oscar answered with a friendly, "How ya doin', partner?" on the other end of the line. 'Oh, God!' her brain shouted as something in his voice shot like electricity through her spine, pooling down in her stomach. Eyes widened in fear, she had to remind herself to breathe, let alone speak.
"Uh - Yeah - I mean, fine. Good, good!" she stammered nervously. 'Get a grip! What the hell is wrong with you?' she scolded herself, paying little attention to her surroundings as she listened carefully to the sound of his breathing coming through the line. Rubbing her sweaty palm against the length of her thigh, she strived for a sense of normalcy as she calmed her voice. "So - um - you called?" she asked, attempting to calm her frayed nerves.
A soft chuckle met her on the other end as Oscar laughed at her. "Yes, Ang, I did. Did you get my message?"
Smiling subconsciously at the inviting tone of her partner's voice, Angie reveled in the comfort that swept through her. The nervous feeling that she had experienced just a moment ago faded into a peaceful ease that swept over her at the familiarity of their repertoire. Angie took comfort in the normalcy that Oscar provided, attempting to shove her thoughts and perceptions to the far corner of her mind until she could properly devote energy to deciding how she wanted to deal with them. Just because she had tuned into her feelings didn't mean a darn thing; they had lived on a shelf this long, whether or not she had been paying attention to them was the only difference, she realized.
"Yes," Angie answered definitively, hiding the emotions that coursed through her and threatened to spill over. Who knew that such a simple, one-syllable word could be so difficult to utter? Until this moment, she never would have believed it herself.
"Yes; you got my message? Yes; you are up for lunch? Yes; you're prepared to run away with me this afternoon?" Oscar asked in jest, as remnants of seriousness crept through.
And then, just like that, Oscar unwittingly threw her emotions into a tailspin with a simple question. Of course Angie logically knew he had only been joking when he asked the last question, but the ache in her chest and flutter of her stomach were signs of a heart that had decided it was no longer up for discussion. Love had a funny effect on the body; on the mind. "Run away?" she squeaked out, battling to regain control against an abundance of nerves that threatened to explode from within her.
The trouble with love is that it's an out of body experience and an experiment in heightened awareness all at once. You don't act like yourself as you lose control of the ability calm your rolling stomach or your fidgety fingers and sweaty palms. Then you pay careful attention to those palms and fingers that won't follow orders, with every heartbeat drumming so loudly in your chest that you're pretty sure the other person can hear it, too. Every intonation of their voice, every flick of emotion on their face is an opportunity to misinterpret the moment as you over-think and search for something that may not even be there.
"Oh. My. God. Shut. Up. Damnit," she muttered to herself, smacking a palm against her forehead to the beat. Her mind clanged and clamored for attention for a fleeting moment when it was suddenly interrupted by a small voice breaking through the fog.
"Sorry," Oscar murmured across the line, apologizing weakly.
'Oh. Oh, no. No, no, no,' she thought; 'This is bad, very bad. Say something!' "No! Wait! Sorry," she apologized herself as she began pacing back and forth. "Okay, so you mentioned lunch? I think I can do lunch," Angie tried again, hoping her partner didn't think she was completely nuts. Two friends doing lunch just like every time before shouldn't have been such a big deal. In the back of her mind, Angie knew nothing had changed. Tuning back into the conversation, Angie only caught part of what Oscar was saying.
"... -beth Park, off of 37th. You should be able to find a place to park west of the golf course if you get there early," came the voice. "Wear sneakers with something comfortable and I'll meet you there about noon; how's that sound?" Oscar asked, making sure he was giving her enough time to get ready.
Angie frowned in confusion, but agreed anyway and ended the call. 'What could he possibly be planning?' she asked herself as she set about finishing putting her freshly laundered clothes away. Snagging a wool sweater from her closet, she pulled it over her head as she walked through her home to the entry way to find her sneakers. Just as she was pulling on the left shoe, her motions stopped as she was struck with the memory of Oscar's phone conversations the day before.
'Why would he be meeting me for lunch if he had already made plans for today?' she wondered curiously. As she shoved her right foot into the other sneaker, Angie had gone from curious to frustrated as she thought about what her partner was planning. She normally didn't mind surprises, but her stomach sunk as she jumped to conclusions and thought of the worst; an image in her mind of Oscar smiling as he introduced her to another woman, as if he awaited her seal of approval. Angie blinked back tears as she pushed herself to a standing position, amazed at how she could be so eager, yet still dread an opportunity to see her best friend.
As she parked along the street, Angie was curious as to why Oscar had wanted to meet at Queen Elizabeth Park. He never really struck her as an outdoorsman, but she shrugged as she thought about the various other ways he had surprised her in the past. Maybe she really didn't know him as well as she thought she did; maybe this outing was about to prove to her once and for all why this wouldn't, couldn't, work.
Slipping her sunglasses up the bridge of her nose, she walked past the golf course on her right and continued down the footpath, uncertain as to exactly where she was headed. She knew if she kept walking north, she'd find the beautiful and famous botanical gardens housed within the park, so she slowed her pace to carefully observe the assorted people throughout the green grass. For a city that had been so miserable and gloomy less than twenty-four hours ago, the warm sun shown bright in the sky with a soft breeze sweeping through periodically.
Her assessment of the weather was interrupted when she was suddenly approached by playful puppy painted brown with black splotches here and there. She resembled a beagle, Angie surmised, but her longer fur suggested a mixed pedigree as Angie bent down to respond to the dog's eager greeting and stroke the soft fur down along its back and scratch it gently behind the ears. She had always loved dogs, but felt her hectic schedule and small home wasn't conducive to a growing and needful puppy. Unfortunately, that meant she had to go without because she'd rather be a responsible pet owner, than offer her home to one half-heartedly.
Attention wrapped up in the four-legged friend in front of her, Angie didn't notice the approaching footsteps until the source of the sound was standing above her as it cast a shadow of her kneeling form. The sun blinded her as she turned her gaze upward, unable to truly make out the profile of the supposed owner as she could only see a dark outline before her.
"I see you've met Ella," the voice said, full of mirth.
She'd recognize that voice anywhere; she smiled to herself, as she scooped up the puppy and stood to face the intruder. No longer looking up into the sun, she watched as the black figure transformed into a very casual version of her partner before her very eyes. Glancing back and forth between the soft brown of her partner's eyes and those of the puppy, Angie's shock was soon interrupted by the sloppy kiss of the puppy as it licked her face and tried biting at her blond curls hanging over her shoulder.
"Wait...Ella?" Angie asked, scratching the small puppy's ear before moving down to the braided collar and rotating it until she could properly read the metal tag. As she said the puppy's name, the puppy quickly turned its head back to her and licked her cheek once more in excitement.
"Yep," Oscar replied, clipping a leash through the small ring of the collar with a loud click. Running his own hand over the puppy's head, Angie felt a small jolt of electricity when his fingertips brushed across hers.
As she bent down to deposit the eager puppy on the ground, she took the time to inspect her partner as she ran her eyes down and back up the length of him. A pair of Nike sneakers peaked out from the bottom of his form-fitting stonewashed jeans, his hands shoved into the back pockets. He was wearing a thin, grey hooded pullover sweatshirt, with a black t-shirt peaking out from the unbuttoned Henley collar. His beard and face appeared as normal, partially hiding a smile, eyes hidden behind a pair of black Ray-Ban sunglasses. She couldn't recall a time when she had seen him look so casual, which partially struck her as odd.
As she rose to her feet once more, Angie wasn't sure where to begin with all of the questions that threatened to spill out of her. She observed thoughtfully as she watched him withdraw his right hand from the pocket to tug lightly at the braided leash looped around his exposed wrist. With his sleeves pushed up, Angie took a moment to stare intently at the muscles and tendons flexing in the joint as the rope wrapped around his hand.
Under her scrutiny, Oscar emitted a nervous cough as the puppy began tugging at the leash once more as she lumbered awkwardly through the small area of grass around them. "Ella and I - um - we wanted you to join us on our picnic," he said softly, turning to gesture toward the basket resting upon a blanket on the grass about twenty feet away from where they stood.
Angie smiled at his awkwardness, a calm feeling settling over her as she soon realized she wasn't the only one feeling a little out of sorts. Oddly enough, she took comfort in the display as his uneasiness as it set her at ease while the two navigated the soft blades of grass back toward the blanket. Kneeling down on the blanket, she sat back against the heels of her feet as she enjoyed the warmth of the sun and the playful energy of the puppy nipping at her fingertips. Unfolding her legs out from under her, she stretched them out and laughed quietly as tiny, fury feet clambered up across the sloping terrain of her thighs to burrow into the warmth of her sweater.
After a quiet moment, she looked up to see her partner staring back down at her, speechless. Reaching out with her left hand, she waved him towards her and invited him to sit beside her on the plaid blanket beneath her. Petting the small creature softly, she watched her fingertips make even strokes as the puppy sighed contentedly; Oscar settling down to mirror her position, minus the puppy, and watched as Angie dropped her head in a sigh of relief.
"You okay, partner?" Oscar whispered softly, the words tickling her eardrums as her blond curls flitted in the warm breeze.
Nodding silently, Angie wrestled with whether or not she was ready to entertain him with tales of misinterpretations and missed opportunities. And suddenly, she had to keep herself from blurting out all of the words in her mind at once, because regardless of how this day had gone in her mind, Oscar Vega was her partner and best friend - the man who knew her better than anyone else. At the end of the day, she would rather him know her at her worst, than any other man know her at her best; if that wasn't true love, then she didn't want to know what love was.
"You're going to think it's stupid," she replied, breaking the heavy silence between the two of them. "I mean, I've had my moments, but I'm pretty sure this one tops them all," she continued as she thumbed the engravings on the dog's metal tag nervously.
Despite the sunglasses covering her eyes, Angie felt the need to close them for fear that Oscar would be able to see right through her as she fought with the emotions deep inside. With one last glance in his direction, the worried look on his face nearly breaking her heart, Angie closed her eyelids and took a deep breath. As she was about to start speaking, she was surprised by the soft touch of his dry lips ghosting across her cheekbone, beard brushing across the skin; disappearing as quickly as it had appeared that Angie wasn't sure it had actually happened.
"I think I have an idea," Oscar mumbled softly as he pulled back and stared quietly at his calloused fingertips; "That's actually kind of why I called you this morning," he added as he looked up at her. "I've been debating whether or not to adopt a dog, but had to cancel on the foster weekend last week. Lauren - the kennel owner - called to see if I still wanted to spend time with Ella, so we set it up for this weekend instead." Oscar smiled sheepishly as he reached toward her lap to pet the puppy once more. "'She's special, but I don't know if I'm ready for that kind of commitment.' A puppy is a lot of work, especially with our schedules."
Angie's head immediately snapped up to face his as she recognized the words he spoke to her. For a detective trained to follow the evidence, she'd done a helluva job jumping to conclusions lately; she felt like a fool. Oscar had been talking to a woman yesterday; a damn kennel owner asking about a damn dog. Granted, a cute dog, but still a dog nonetheless.
As the two enjoyed one another's company lunch, Angie finally gathered the nerve to tell her partner about her stupidity and assumptions the day before as they walked through down the park footpath. As the two followed the winding gardens, Oscar stopped them while she shook her head as she told him about overhearing the phone call in the break room.
"Wait - you thought I was talking about another woman?" Oscar asked, arm outstretched as the puppy tugged at the other end to sniff the nearby flowers.
"I'm sorry," Angie apologized genuinely, assuming he was upset at her eavesdropping. "'another woman'?" she asked a moment later as she looked up from staring intently at the crack in the sidewalk.
"Yes," he responded quietly. "Honest to God, Ang - you're the only woman in my life," Oscar muttered as he let the puppy pull him further along the path, leaving Angie behind to digest his words. Remembering his soft lips against her cheek earlier that afternoon, she realized how blind she must have been to ever assume any different.
As Angie looked up a few moments later, she could see him curving around a bend in the path behind the inquisitive creature. Jogging to catch up to them, she slowed her pace as she came up beside his left side, reaching down with her right hand to clasp his between her two smaller ones. Tugging on his arm gently, she slowed their walk to a stop and pulled him until he was facing her as she pulled off the sunglasses shading her eyes.
Shaking her head forlornly, Angie bit her bottom lip as she hung her head in disappointment. "You have to believe me when I say that I had no idea," she whispered towards her feet. "Oh, God, if I had known..." Pulling them further to the side of the path, Angie watched as Oscar raised an eyebrow and implored her to continue.
"If you had known what, Angie? What would that have changed? You were ready to give up at the possibility that there was someone else," he threw out to her, hoping she'd trust him enough to reach out to him. The longer the silence stretched between, the lower his stomach sank as he thought about her without him.
Angie shook her head violently at his suggestion; "No. No, it wasn't about giving up; not at all. It was about wanting you to be happy, all while knowing that if it meant you being with someone else, then I'd have to be okay with that," she replied quickly. "I wouldn't like it, but you being unhappy with anyone, especially me, would truly be the worst feeling in the world."
"So...you were ready to let me be happy? With a dog?" Oscar replied jokingly as Angie swatted him across the chest gently. "Angie -" he began again, only to be interrupted by Angie once more.
"No, not with a dog - though I'm not one to judge -" she began to respond, cut off by Oscar waving his palm.
"No, seriously; I attempted to have this memorized so I wouldn't have a heart attack when this moment finally came, so please just listen to my jumbled declaration," he began, smirking lightly as her eyes grew bigger in concern for a brief second. "I've wanted this for God knows how long," he said as he gestured to her with his free hand.
Stepping closer to her, he dropped his voice to a low, gravelly whisper. "I don't give a damn about all the reasons why we won't work; the only thing I care about is having one good reason for why we will," he spoke softly as her eyelids fluttered closed, her heading bowing to cover up the blush settling in. Oscar brought up his warm hand to spread softly across her cheek as he spoke; the calloused pad of his thumb rubbing softly across her cheekbone in time with the whisper. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but I'm pretty sure that crazy thing they call love kind of trumps everything else."
A small smile crept across Angie's face as his words filtered through the depths of her brain, traveling south as they warmed her heart and calmed her rolling stomach. The boxes of her mind that were filled to the brim of what-ifs and could-have-beens didn't matter anymore, as she mentally kicked them aside to toss out with the other useless information that she had accumulated and hoarded over the years. As her eyelids fluttered open, she felt him standing close enough for her eyelashes to flicker across his cheek as she lifted her eyes once more.
Just as she was about to throw a witty remark back at him, Angie felt more than saw Oscar's frame lurch toward her as the puppy forcefully tugged on the leash as she attempted to chase a butterfly behind her. Arms out to break his fall, her palms landed upon his chest with a muted thud as he gripped her waist tightly in order to remain upright, grinning sheepishly at the predicament. Utilizing the situation to her advantage, Angie looped her arms up and around his neck as she threaded her fingers softly through the curls at the base of his neck.
Resting her forehead against his, Angie felt Oscar begin to whisper as the soft, warm breath blew as her face; "Sorry abou-," he began to apologize as he was interrupted by her warm, soft lips capturing his in a long kiss. Moving her lips over his, she encouraged him to join her as her lips stayed fused to his, eyelids fluttering closed once more.
The four-legged creature below them continued to chase the butterfly, unbeknownst to her that her leash continued to wrap tighter around the duo, closing the already miniscule gap between them. Withdrawing from one another, the partners laughed as Oscar attempted to untangle the puppy from around their legs. As his left arm held the leash at arm's length to allow the puppy to continue her chase, he wrapped his right around Angie's waist once more to draw her in close to him.
"You. Are. The. Only. Girl. For. Me," he whispered forcefully, punctuating each word with a kiss. Just as he was about to capture Angie's lips in a mind blowing kiss once more, she him stopped an inch away before adding her own whisper.
"Aww, but what about Ella?" she questioned, eyes glinting mischievously, as she frowned mockingly.
Dropping his forehead to her shoulder, Oscar groaned in frustration before turning to nuzzle and playfully nip at her neck; paying little mind to the few pedestrians that followed the path around them as he reveled in the sound of Angie's laughter as she threw her head back in joy.
Just so you know, that ending was specific for a few readers who absolutely love their mushy fluff. I could go back and rewrite it, but I also wanted to play with the idea of Oscar being the assertive one. We don't see it much on the show, but when we do you can tell he's a man of principle *swoon*.
Comments/Questions/Suggestions - Always welcome; you know where to find me. You are all fantastico! Wishing much happiness to you all :-)