Dark Horse
By Jenevieve
Summary: To obsessed and stubborn to let anyone in John pushes Natalie away for good, but when Rex is arrested for Spencer's murder John sets out to find her at Roxie's request. Can a moment of clarity and raw honesty between them finally bridge the gap before there's no going back?
Rating: R for language, angst, and a little sex
Disclaimer: I sadly do not own any of the characters. They are all the wonderful creations of Agnes Nixon and the writers of One Life to Live, and I am only taking advantage of my love of the show to play with them for a little while.
Spoilers: The story follows the basic current storyline of "One Life to Live", jumping ahead to the aftermath of Spencer Truman's murder, so it deviates from the upcoming storyline.
A/N: Lyrics used in this fan fiction are from "Promises" by Amanda Marshall. The title and theme was also inspired by Amanda Marshall's song "Dark Horse". Portions in italics are character inner thoughts.
It's all sound and all fury
It's all reach and no touch
It's all life's cold bravado
All grown up and old so fast
And I know I won't last forever
If there's nothing left in your heart for me
Baby, baby, baby, baby
Too young to die and too old
To believe in
Promises
----
Bang! Bang! Bang!
"Huh, what…?" John McBain sat up with a start, his head snapping forward as he half sat up half fell of the couch. Frantically he flailed his arms outward, catching himself just as he started to slip off the side.
"Fuck." He swore softly, his heart pounding away in his chest as he slid back against the cushions of the back of the sofa. Leaning forward he rested his elbows on his knees and ran his hands over his face and through his hair. It was the fourth night in a row he'd slept on the couch, and the fourth morning he'd awoken disoriented, tight, and sore. But try as he might he just couldn't sleep in his bed, not since she'd left, since he'd let her leave. And just like that he felt old and tired, the sharpness of the last few days tearing at him. He could really go for stiff drink, even if it was only…only…he retrieved his watch from the coffee table where'd he'd tossed it the night before. 7:06 a.m. Hey, it had to be 5 o'clock somewhere in the world.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Suddenly he remembered why he was awake and for a moment he silently debated opening the door.
"I know you're in there!" A throaty female voice yelled from the other side of the door.
"Alright, alright, I'm coming," he called back, pushing himself up from the couch. It took an unusual amount of effort and he winced, his sore muscles and skin grafts protesting each move. He paused momentarily taking in a few deep breaths before moving forward, slowly towards the door.
Roxie's disheveled and frantic form stood ringing her hands on the other side.
"What's wrong, Roxie?" He sighed, leaning against the door frame and crossing his arms across his chest in an attempt to hide the pain he was in.
"Where's Natalie?" Roxie slipped passed him. "Natalie? Hey Nattie!"
"Sure, come right on in," he grumbled softly, closing the door behind her.
"Where is she?" Roxie pinned him with two wide eyes. She was obviously upset.
"Natalie's not here," he exhaled heavily.
"Well where is she?"
"I don't know," he replied unable to meet her worried eyes.
"When's she getting back?" She took a step towards him.
"I don't know." He could feel her eyes boring in to him and he shifted uncomfortably under her gaze. Finally unable to take the scrutiny he decided to change the subject. "What's wrong?"
"Rex," Roxie began sliding down onto the couch. "He's being arrested for Spencer Truman's murder."
"You're kidding!" He moved over besides her, sitting on the edge of the coffee table. "When?"
"The commissioner called 'bout a half hour ago," she replied weakly her eyes staring down at her hands in her lap. Suddenly she snapped her head up meeting John's gaze straight on. "I know I've screwed up with my kids but they've turned out ok. Rex and Nattie, they're good, you know?"
"Yeah, I do," he offered with a soft smile.
"Rex may get into some trouble but he's no killer. He doesn't have it in him, I swear! He didn't do it." She was close to hysterics.
"I'm sure he'll be fine." John reached forward awkwardly as if to pat her hand but thought better of it, smoothing his hands along his jeans instead.
"Yeah, that's why I need to find Nattie. I'm no good with this kind of stuff, you know? She's the smart one. She'll know what to do. I've been calling her cell phone but she's not answering. Vikki hasn't seen her neither. Why isn't she here?"
He sighed heavily. "I haven't seen her since Monday."
"Why? What's going on? Is she alright?" She was on her feet again.
"Natalie and I aren't together anymore."
The words were barely out of his mouth before she slapped him across the face.
"You two," Roxie yelled, her voice shaking with all the emotion she'd been holding in. "Selfish kids! Too stubborn and proud the both of you, you're throwing away your second chance and Rex…" She swallowed the rest of her words hard as she spun and headed for the door.
Wrenching it opened she turned back on John who stood a hand pressed against the side of his face where she'd slapped him. "Swallow your pride and find her."
"It's not my job…" he started but she cut him off with a look.
"Yes it is," she snapped. "If she's gone right now it's because of whatever is going on with you two so it's on you."
"I'm the last person she'll want to see."
"Her family needs her. I don't give a damn what she wants just get her back here!" And she slammed the door behind her.
For a moment he just stared at the door in silence before finally retrieving the receiver of his portable phone. He rubbed absentmindedly at his cheek as he punched in the numbers and shoved the receiver between his right shoulder and ear while he rummaged through the drawers of his desk.
"It's McBain. I need you to run a credit card number for me."
-----
The sea was turbulent, the surf rising and boiling in frothy eddies as it struck the beach front, eating away at the packed beach sand with each rush. Waves moved in slow undulating mounds, white caps hinting at the raging power simmering just beneath the solid gray of the ocean water. Up and down, always moving forward never ceasing, one long gray line of vastness fading into the muted gray of the sky above. Gray upon gray; the Atlantic Ocean in the winter. She knew the monochromatic sight well and the heaviness that it carried in the biting wind that wiped through her hair and around her body as she moved silently along the weather worn wood of the Boardwalk. She was home.
It had been a long time since she'd walked the trail that followed the line of the ocean, the wind pressing into her hard trying to drive her back. She moved alone through the cold and grayness, the shops along the Boardwalk boarded up and closed for the winter season, yet she took no notice, her feet carrying her along an old but familiar path, her mind adrift in waters she wished she could swim free of. Further away from civilization she moved, turning down an empty pier heading straight out into the icy blast of the angry sea. The wind blew harder here, the last remnants of protection that the buildings offered replaced by the emptiness of the open ocean surrounding her, and she tilted her head down, her face nestling deeper into the scarf wrapped around her nose and neck as she pushed on her destination in sight.
As she slipped down onto the wooden bench it felt as if the years shifted from her shoulders and she was a kid again watching the teenagers and lovers flirt and mess around in the surf and water around her. How long had it been since she'd sat on these ragged boards? The vivid memory of running her fingers over the smooth black finished surface of the accents that made up the arms and legs of the bench flashed through her mind but when she looked she found them chipped and ragged. Maybe everything did change? Even something as simple as a bench aged and faded and she found herself wondering if anyone ever used it anymore and if so did they have any idea of how much it had meant to a little girl? Could they even imagine such a thing?
She felt his presence before he spoke. She knew he had been following her, no doubt tracking her for a day or two, at least since she'd check into the small motel just off the strip. God he could be so thick! Her relationship with John hadn't even cooled yet and already Vincent was circling her like a shark or at least like a dog with an itch, a really bad itch that he seemed convince only she could scratch for him.
"What do you want Vincent?" Her voice muffled through the fabric of her scarf.
"Mind if I sit?" He moved around in front of her, the collar of his long black trench coat pulled up along the line of his face.
"Yeah, I do," she replied evenly, her eyes staring passed him out at the fridged caps of the waves.
He swayed slightly on his feet as if deciding whether to let her have her way or press the issue. It was like watching a child who had to pee, and inwardly she rolled her eyes.
"What do you want Vincent?" She repeated her question, her eyes moving to meet his. The look she gave him was not friendly.
"I just wanted to make sure you were alright," he replied, his voice gentle and concerned.
Again she inwardly rolled her eyes.
"I'm fine. I just want to be left alone."
"I don't think that's a good idea right now…"
"Oh but following me, practically stalking me is?" She snapped, interrupting him. She had had it. No more Miss Nice Guy.
"I wasn't…"
"Yes you were. Yes you have been!" She was seething now, emotions pouring out that had very little to do with Vincent but he was there and he was an easy target and she let it flow like rain. "I don't want a friend and I'm not interested in being with a guy right now, alright!"
"Hey I read you loud in clear it's just…"
"Obviously you don't because you're here! I don't need a shoulder or a savior or whatever else you had in mind. I need to be alone! Just go home, Vincent!" That was it, and she turned back into herself, her emotions churning away like the water beneath their feet.
For a moment he looked as if he wasn't going to leave but she was ignoring him and slowly, quietly he made his retreat, just another dog with his tail between his legs. She sighed heavily as she heard his footsteps fade away, her heart slowing as the anger receded. Men! Sometimes she wished she was a lesbian, but then again women could be just as difficult to figure out. Ok maybe it wasn't men in general, more like one in particular. How had things gotten so messed up?
"Hey."
His voice startled her and for a split second she was sure it was Vincent back for more, but it wasn't Vincent's voice. No, the voice was one she knew as well as her own. It was the one voice that had the power to make her smile and laugh or wound her deeper than she ever imagined possible. It was the voice that haunted her fantasies and her nightmares, a voice that not too long ago she had prayed with every fiber of her being to hear again and miraculously had. But it was also the voice that had broken her heart.
She made no reply as he moved into her field of vision, coming around the side of the bench and casually leaning again the railing in front of her. She glanced tentatively at his eyes, those blue eyes that she could drown in, that she had drown in, and just as quickly she looked away choosing to stare at the water instead; the safe, constant water.
"I saw Vincent." It wasn't a question just a statement.
"He was worried about me."
She could see the disbelieving smirk that washed over his face, the condescending nod of his head and inwardly she smiled slightly. No no, no smiling, she silently chided herself.
"Roxie's looking for you."
So there was the reason he was standing here. Get right down to business, just do what you have to do, be the good little bloodhound that you are, and she felt her heart drop slightly. Somewhere deep inside she had still harbored hope that maybe, just maybe this once his reason for standing here would have been his own. Nope, no change in the status quo.
"Tell her I'm fine and I'll be back in a few days." There you go! Now you can scamper back like a good boy, your work done. You don't need to stay here and force yourself to talk with me.
"Rex has been arrested for Truman's murder."
The sigh escaped her lips before she could stop herself, her eyes closing as his words hit home. Rex arrested? She knew he'd been a suspect before she'd taken off but she never dreamt Uncle Bo would go through with arresting him. He loved Rex like a son even if he couldn't admit it in so many words. It was wrong, so wrong, and part of her wanted to race back home and start kicking ass and taking names, but no, not this time.
"Rex will be fine without me," she replied, her voice soft, defeated as she tucked her scarf beneath her chin, her full lips pressed together in a tight line.
He stared down at her, watching her stare out at the ocean, her body turned in on itself for warmth he thought at first but as he watched her he wondered. There was something else, something wrong, and for some reason he chose to push it.
"Roxie's really worried. She can't do this without you, and she's convinced Rex can't either."
"Well Roxie's never been a good judge of what her kids do or don't need." There was a bitterness in her tone that surprised him. She had never been a fan of Roxie's parenting skills but he had never heard her speak about her with such resentment before. Something was very wrong.
"Natalie…"
"Look Rex doesn't need me ok!" Her eyes flashed as she met his gaze. "He wouldn't even be in this mess if it weren't for me. If I hadn't been complaining to him, telling him how badly Spencer needed to pay for ruining my life, your life, Michael's! I let him leave Rodi's! I destroyed his alibi! And I…" But she stopped herself, her jaw set tightly shut.
"And you what?"
"Nothing. It's not important," she muttered, her eyes turning back to the sea. "Trust me I'm the last person Rex needs right now."
"You think he did it." Again it was a simple statement, no pressure, no question.
"No," her voice was quiet again all the passion from her outburst drained away. "But he wouldn't be looking so guilty if I'd opened my eyes to someone else for a change and not been so fixated on my own issues."
He opened his mouth to say more but she stopped him.
"How did 'I love you' turn into 'goodbye' with us, John? I've spent the last few days down here trying to figure it out and I can't. How did our second chance go so wrong?"
He stood staring down at her in silence and she could feel his eyes on her but she refused to meet them, instead concentrating on the slight variations in the grayness of the water.
"I don't know," he finally admitted, his own voice quiet.
"I know I messed up. Spiking your food with the medication, I realize I crossed a line but if I had to do it again…If I had to do it again I would. I did what I thought was best and I did it out of love. I never intended to make you feel betrayed or that you couldn't trust me."
His head snapped up then from the wooden boards he'd been staring at. "I never said…"
"Yes you did," she met his eyes evenly, her hands pulling the scarf back down from her mouth where it has shifted back up, the wind swirling her hair around her in whirlwind of muted red. "You said it to Marty Saybrook. I know I wasn't supposed to hear but I did. I came home to tell you, you won. I wasn't going to fight you anymore because I didn't want to lose you and I heard you two talking. I heard what you said to her, and it broke my heart, John."
"I never meant to hurt you," he offered weakly.
"And I never meant to betray you," she replied her gaze moving back to the sea. "But I did and you did and despite the fact that everything I did came from good intentions I still lost you. And I just, I just needed to step away."
"I should probably go then," he muttered.
"Before you go, please, just answer me one thing."
Something in her voice made him pause. His eyes moved over her huddled form, sitting so still with the wind ravaging her hair wild and tangled about her face, her eyes staring, burning holes into the ocean beyond them. She looked so fragile, her face set like stone determined not to break. He knew he should walk away, save her the pain he could see rising in her eyes, but how could he? He'd already walked away from her enough, pushed her away. He exhaled heavily, stuffing his hands deep into the pockets of his jacket. "What's that?"
"How am I supposed to feel?" Her eyes turned up on him then, deep and hollow. "Because I can't figure it out. I know I should be angry or hurt or upset or something but I can't feel anything. Even the cold right here, right now, it's just background noise. I just feel so…so tired. Numb. I feel like I'm waking up and suddenly I'm ten years older and everything is different, I don't even recognize who I am or what my life's become."
She was visibly shaking despite the strength in her voice, and silently he sat down beside her on the bench. He wanted to reach out and hold her close but he was too afraid, so he just listened.
"I used to come here all the time when I was younger. At first just after school but eventually during classes when I didn't feel like dealing with other people. I came here a lot at night when Roxie was out. Some nights I'd sleep here watching the stars come out one by one until a cop chased me off or I'd go sleep in the sand under the Boardwalk. Most times I'd just sit and watch people around me; the wealthy couples and families on vacation, the teenagers flirting and messing around in the surf, the prostitutes and show girls working their way up and down the strip, even the couples making love in the water and sand beneath the boards here." She pointed a the open slats between the boards. "I'd watch them and pretend I was in their shoes, that I could get away from this place. Sometimes I'd have a family but most of the time it was just one special person, someone who saw me at my best and my worst and no matter what wouldn't leave me. Guess when you grow up being left all the time that's the one thing you dream of most, being of use, being wanted."
She paused pulling the pleating of her gray pea coat tighter around her small frame.
"I've had a lot of people come in and out of my life over the years. There's been a lot of bad but some good in there too; Mom and Jess, Rex, Cristian, hell even Roxie eventually, but most of all there's been you, John. You've been the closest friend I've ever had, even forgetting all the history between us, you've always been there for me." She turned to face him now, her eyes soft. "And then I fell in love with you and it was perfect, despite all the baggage and everything that kept getting in our way it was perfect. I knew how you were and I was ok with it. It worked, we worked. You were suppose to be the one person who didn't leave me and then you did, and I know it wasn't your fault but you did and I was all alone again. I don't think I've ever hurt so much before. It felt like dying and that's all I wanted to do. I wanted to crawl inside that grave with you and make it all stop but I didn't because I knew you'd never forgive me. As alone as I was I knew you'd never forgive me for giving up like that so I tried but every day I felt a little bit more of you fading from me and I was fading along with it, and then just like that you were back and all that pain was replaced with so much joy, I can't even describe it."
She swallowed hard and turned away from him again, unable to face his eyes. Those bright blue eyes that she loved more than anything else.
"But it didn't work. You tried to change and that made me believe and want more than what we had and when you couldn't do it, I couldn't let go of it. I messed up, John, and I know it wasn't just my fault but I made mistakes and it cost me. It cost us, and I'm sorry. I just don't understand how it all went so wrong so fast. I don't understand how we can love each other so much and not be able to make it work, not be able to forgive each other."
"Hey," he reached out and pushed a piece of her hair away from her face.
"I don't know how to make you forgive me and I don't know how to forgive you for leaving me in the first place."
She turned to face him and wasn't at all surprised by the confused look on his face.
"Real moments of clarity sort of sneak up on you," she smiled slightly, staring down at her hands in her lap. "All my pushing, my bitchiness, my nagging, it wasn't just out of concern for your health. There is all this anger, all this rage still swirling around inside of me and I think it's been slowly poisoning me, and us. You told me once to trust you, that you wouldn't leave me again that you won't let yourself die on me, and I do trust you or I want to, but all that fear I have is just a part of it. I think part of me is still angry with you, maybe even resents and hates you a little for making me think you were dead in the first place. For leaving me all alone."
His arms were around her before she'd even finished talking, pulling her close and holding her tightly.
"I'm sorry," he whispered into her hair.
"It's not your fault," she choked back tears, her voice muffled against the leather of his jacket. "I know it's not your fault. I don't want to hate you, and I don't want you to hate me."
"I could never hate you," he kissed the top of her head.
"But you don't trust me?" Her voice was soft and raw.
"I didn't mean it like that," he sighed, pushing her away from him so he could look her in the eyes. "I was just angry." He cupped her chin in his hands, pushing the hair away from her face. "Yeah knowing you spiked my food like that, it hurt, but I understand why you did it. I might have done it to you if the roles had been reversed."
She smiled slightly, choking out a soft sob.
"I should have let it go and I shouldn't have talked to Marty about us like that either. I was just so angry with being trapped inside the apartment, about Truman, about not being able to do anything about any of it, and I shouldn't have taken it all out on you like that."
"I wasn't exactly an angel," she nibbled her lower lip.
"True, but I could have tried harder, I should have tried harder. I'm just no good at being taken care of."
"I know," her voice was soft, defeated. "Maybe it's better this way."
"Is that what you want?"
Raising her eyes she met his. "Of course not," she shook her head. "But it isn't up to me, John, it's up to you. I love you and I don't want to lose you. I'm incomplete without you, but it's what you wanted, isn't it?"
"I can't…I don't…god, I can be such a jerk. You deserve better than this."
"So do you." A tear slid down her cheek and she brushed it away with the back of her hand. "We've always been a long shot, so many things getting in the way. Perhaps betting on the dark horse this time was a mistake."
"If you don't bet big you don't win big," he replied with a half smile.
"You also don't lose as much."
"Natalie, I'm no good at this stuff, you know that."
"I do, but I don't know how to stop loving you and I don't know how to move forward without you. I'm scared, John. I'm so scared I'm going to drown in this nothingness inside of me, in this anger that has no outlet. I don't even know where to start."
He leaned back against the bench glancing up at the gathering storm clouds above. Along the horizon a blot of lighting drew a jagged line illuminating the distance between the sky and boiling sea. A deep rumble of thunder exploded over head.
"I need to go," she mumbled pushing herself to her feet, her eyes locked on the stormy horizon. "I'm sorry Roxie made you come out here. You probably should head back soon though. Don't want to get sick."
"Natalie, wait." His voice stopped her in her tracks a few yards away from him down the pier, her shoulders hunched against the wind. "Aw hell," he muttered getting to his feet and stalking after her. He grabbed her roughly by the wrist as he pulled up beside her, spinning her around to face him. "I love you. I do, ok? But I don't know how to change. I want to but I don't know how to."
"It's ok…" She started but he interrupted her, his hand squeezing her wrist tighter.
"No it's not, not if it's causing all of this."
"It isn't causing all of this, John. It's part of it but I'm responsible too, and…"
"And I do forgive you, alright." His eyes locked on and held hers, her face so close to his he could feel her breath warm against his skin. "You're the only one I trust. You should know that by now."
"But before, what you said to Marty?"
He could see the uncertainty, the fear in her eyes; the flood of emotions threatening to swallow her up hovering just beneath the surface. "I was angry and frustrated, that's all. And no I don't want this either. I want you. I want us back."
"But the fighting? I'm not sure how to make all this anger and hurt go away."
"Hey," his voice was gentle and he slid a hand along the side of her face, cupping the back of her head in his palm. "We've gotten through worse before right?"
She nodded weakly, her eyes huge and luminous.
"We can get through this if you're willing to try again."
"Of course," she sobbed, tears falling hot and face down her face. "I'm sorry," she sucked in a sharp breath. "I don't know why I'm crying."
"I don't mind," he smiled as he pulled her against him.
Closing his eyes his lips found hers in a deep crushing kiss. She leaned in to him, letting go of her fear of getting him sick, and she opened herself up to him tasting him. The kiss deepened, her fingers lost in the tangle of his hair as they drank each other in deeply, passionately like they had both wanted to for months now. Tears ran down Natalie's cheeks, mingling with the rain that began to fall in big wet drops as the sky above opened up.
----
Her neck arched backwards as a wave of pleasure washed over her, her mouth open in a silent cry of ecstasy. His fingers moved along the curve of her stomach and down the swell of her thighs as his hips thrusted forward pushing him deeper within her. Beneath him her hips rose to meet his, cradling him, eagerly pressing him on. His lips moved up the curve of her neck, kissing, nibbling, and licking as his hands moved up and over the soft skin of her breasts. She moaned softly, her fingernails racking over the bare skin of his back careful to avoid his scars.
"Natalie." He whispered her name against the side of her head as he shifted his weight forward, moving deeper in one long fast stroke.
Beads of sweat slid down the length of their bodies and reaching up she ran her fingers over his face, his eyes staring down into hers. Smiling lazily she lifted her top half, meeting his lips hard as he began to pump faster and faster, her body arching up in responds. Raising her arms over her head she grasped the pillow case tightly in her fists as the growing heat grew stronger and stronger within her. Sliding his hands along the smooth skin of her arms, his hands found hers, his fingers intertwining with hers into tight fists as her body pulled him over the edge. He cried out, his face buried in her hair spidering out along the pillow beside her neck, and his breath was hot and heavy against her skin as he continued to surge within her until the heat was too much and she gave in, crying out as wave after wave of pleasure ground its way through her.
"I love you." Her voice was soft, exhausted, reflecting the trembling way her body shook as she clung to him while the body rush subsided.
He smiled into her neck, gently cradling her body beneath his.
---
"So Rex," she whispered after she'd settled into the crook of his neck, the sheets wrapped tightly around their bodies. "Is he in bad shape?"
"Looks that way," he replied, his left arm tucked behind his head, his right wrapped around her waist. "He had opportunity and they found him over Truman with the bloody pair of scissors."
"Yeah but what about motive?"
"Apparently he found out that Tommy is really Todd's kid." He rolled onto his side pulling Natalie's back against his chest. Taking a deep breath he inhaled the scent of her hair. God, how he'd missed that smell.
"Tommy's Todd and Margaret Cochran's baby? Oh god, poor Marcie and Michael!"
"Mike said Rex told him a day before Truman turned up dead. Guess Rex decided not to tell Todd."
"Well Tommy's better off with parents like Michael and Marcie than Todd that's for sure," she exhaled heavily in his arms, snuggling tighter against his chest. "But I still don't see Rex's motive."
"Truman knew who Tommy really was, even taunted Mike about it before he died."
"That's what Rex was freaking out about at Rodi's," Natalie closed her eyes, pulling John's arms around her tighter. "Oh god, poor Rex!"
"We'll figure something out," John whispered against the back of her neck.
"We?" She smiled against the pillow. "Who said I'd let you help?"
"You want to see your brother go to jail for killing that scum?" He ran a hand along the bare skin of her stomach, and Natalie closed her eyes enjoying the feel of his skin against hers.
"No of course not, but what more can we do than get him a good lawyer?"
"All I know is I promised Roxie I'd bring you back. You know she's got one hell of right hook."
"She punched you!" Natalie was sitting up right staring down at John still curled on his side.
"No but she has one hell of a slap." He smiled up at her, his eyes half-lidded with sleep.
"Why did she hit you?" She settled back down on the bed beside him, rolling onto her side so she was facing him.
"Because we broke up." He kissed the tip of her nose, his left hand tucking some lose strands of red hair back behind her ear.
"Unbelievable," she smirked. "She slapped me when I wasn't going to your funeral."
"Did she?" John smiled his eyes closed.
"Yeah, she did. She has her moments," Natalie mused. She watched him silently, his eyes closed, his breathing slowly becoming more and more regular. "John?" she finally whispered, nibbling her lower lip nervously.
"Mmm?"
"I think I might know something that could help Rex, but I need to ask you something first?"
"What's that?" He mumbled opening his eyes after much effort.
"Did you have anything to do with Truman's murder?"
He was wide awake again, staring at her face through the darkness of the hotel room. For a moment he just blinked at her the storm outside raging away.
"I already told you I didn't." His voice carried the merest hint of annoyance.
"I know I just had to be sure," she continued to chew on her lip.
"I know that look," he propped himself up on his elbow and stared down at her. "What did you do?"
"You know how I caught you and Michael sneaking out of the hospital that night?"
"Yeah?"
"Well I was worried, really worried that one of you might have well you know…"
He just stared back at her.
"So I snuck into the scene and I sorta…"
"You sorta did what?"
"I sorta took some evidence."
"Damn it, Natalie!" John pushed himself up to a full sitting position, the sheet pooling in his naked lap. "What did you take?"
"A pair of black leather gloves. I thought they were yours, and I'd be damned if I was going to let Spencer cause you or your family any more trouble!"
"Are you sure they were involved in the murder?"
She nodded her head slowly, rising to sit beside him, her hands clutching the sheet across her chest. "I tested them. There's human blood on them and it matches Truman's blood type. They'd have to type the full profile to know for sure but yeah I think they were worn by the killer."
"You've got to turn them in," John exhaled heavily, shaking his head.
"I'm sorry, John, I was just afraid…I was trying to protect you and your brother."
"I know," he sighed, reaching out and running a hand along the side of her face. "I swear I could strangle you right now, but I know why you did it. But you realize this could really screw up the case for everyone."
"I know, but honestly does anyone deserve to be put in prison for killing that monster?"
"Unfortunately, it's not our place to say."
"I'm sorry," she whispered.
"I know. Look there's nothing else we can do right now. Let's get some sleep and tomorrow we'll take care of it, ok?"
She nodded meekly.
"You know you're the world's worst forensic tech," he teased, pulling her down on the bed beside him, his arms wrapped around her waist.
"But you still love me, right?" She nestled in close to him.
"Yeah, yeah," he yawned against her neck. "Just no more crazy stunts ok?"
"Ok," she yawned back. "From now on I'm all by the book."
"Ha!"
"What?" she murmured, her voice muffled against the pillow.
"No more promises neither of us can keep, ok? Let's just take it one step at a time?"
"I can do that," she smiled. "John?"
"Yeah?"
"Thanks."
"For what?" His voice was thick with sleep.
"For being willing to bet big."
He pulled her tighter against him. "No guts not glory." He kissed the side of her neck. "Besides, I still think this dark horse is going to pull it out in the end, just got to let 'em run."
Fin.
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© 2007
Special thanks to Dulce for being a fabulous beta and to her and Angela for wonderful feedback! Thanks girls!
Ok well that's it…a bit random perhaps but I hope you enjoyed it just the same. Remember, all feedback is welcome of course! It's the only way I'll get any better so feel free to drop me a comment at divine. (Just be sure to say something about "fanfic" in the subject so I don't mistake it for spam!