Title: Last Goodbye
Fandom: Murder Call
Characters: Tessa, Steve
Prompt: 033. Too Much
Word Count: 2181 (Mac Word)
Rating: K+
Summary: It was the last goodbye.
Author's Notes: Inspired by Jeff Buckley's song "Last Goodbye". First in a trilogy.
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters. They belong to Jennifer Rowe, Hal McElroy and Southern Star. I make no profit out of this.

"I'm sorry. I can't do this anymore."

Detective Senior Constable Tessa Vance stared at the clean desk opposite hers; struck by the realisation it did not fit in. There was no clutter of files, no mugs with day-old coffee left in them, and no bright yellow post-it notes stuck to the side of the telephone. Square lines, rectangular shapes: the telephone and the laptop – now cleaned of all personal files – were lined up perfectly on the side of the desk.

It was such a stark opposite of what she was used to. Sure, her desk was even worse than his – she could never have any sort of order in her papers – but therein laid the problem: her desk still was. His was cleaned up and free of personal effects, in short back to the monotonous, naked and lifeless situation it had had before, prepped and ready for a new day, a new arrival, a new personality.

He really was gone.

Standing still behind her chair, handbag slung over her shoulder, preparing to leave for the day, Tessa could hardly believe it. There had been a time when it would not have surprised him, like in their early days when things were rocky and he seemed to like nothing more than either bail out or get rid of her. But that was years ago. To her, things had changed. They got along; they might even call themselves best friends. Although it was rather common for partners to form a strong bond, she had thought...

Tessa shook her head, blinking her eyes at the same time, welcoming the pause from the sight in front of her. She was not exactly quite sure what she had thought, but it had been something that had seemed important at one point. Now it was all a blank spot in her mind.

She sighed, opening her eyes and lifting them to the scene in front of her. It seemed so out of place, like a dream, but it was truly real. This is what happened in Homicide. People would tell her it was not all that uncommon or surprising he went off. Well, she had not seen it coming. In truth, she had thought counselling had helped him, but instead he had backed out.

"You right?"

Tessa startled at the sudden intrusion into her cotton-wrapped bubble, the bubble bursting with a silent 'pop!', and she looked to the side. Constable Dee Suzeraine's brown eyes peered at her above a frown, genuine worry in her face.

"I'm fine."

Tessa smiled, but it came out all wrong. She saw the brow furrow even more and crossed her arms.

"Really, I'm fine. I'm just tired. It's been a long day."

"You been cleaning up for him?" Dee pointed to the cardboard box in Tessa's arms, clearly disapproving. "He should do that himself, you know. He's not helpless."

"I know that," said Tessa curtly, letting out an annoyed breath. "I just didn't want him to worry about it. He's got enough on his plate with the moving and all. And it's not as if it was a great sacrifice on my part."

"Still," said Dee, "you're not his partner anymore. It's not as if there's any obligation." Tessa narrowed her eyes at the younger constable, wondering what her problem was. It was just some personal stuff.

"All the same, I'm happy to do it. It's the least I could do…"

"What? Listen to yourself, Tessa! Don't you think he's taking it a bit far?" Dee's face was slightly red with an angry flush, and her hands were fisting at her side. "Don't you think you deserve better than getting it all rubbed in your face?"

"Dee," warned Tessa, closing her eyes momentarily before she let her mouth run off with her. It had been a hard skill to achieve, but in five years she had started to get the hang of it.

"No, Tessa, I think it's unfair! Why should you sort out HIS problem?"

"Because I'm his partner!" Tessa met Dee's eyes, seeing how the redhead locked her jaw and did a good Thorne impression on his bad days. The retaliation was in her face, and Tessa sighed. "Even if we're not going to work together anymore, I still feel like we're partners and partners look after each other."

"I think you're delusional," retorted Dee hotly, but more subdued, as if she thought of her like a lost cause. Tessa found the thought hurt a bit. There was nothing wrong in helping out a good friend, right? Why should she get the third degree when simply playing the Good Samaritan?

"Sorry, I won't get in your way," continued Dee and turned on her heel, storming through the glass doors before Tessa could come up with a reply.

As she saw her friend's back disappear around the corner, she found she could not find any and instead only felt angry and annoyed. Hefting her handbag higher on her shoulder, settling the box in the crook of her arm, Tessa dropped one last look at the contrasting desks before leaving the dimmed office.

"Give her time. She's just hurt," said Tootsie gently as the two of them sat on Tessa's grey sofa later that night. "Dee's known him longer than you have and they had a good rapport. She'll miss him."

Tessa played with her half-empty wine glass, staring at the red content and feeling like the roles should be different. It certainly felt like someone had drank up some of her as well.

"I'll miss him too," she said quietly. She did not look up; already knowing Tootsie would have that look she wore. Her nails were growing long. She would have to do something about that later.

"Of course you'll do," commented Tootsie to Tessa's previous statement. "You've been partners for five years. You've been through some tough times together. It's only sad you didn't get some happy times as well."

"Tootsie…"

"I'm sorry, I promised I wouldn't mention it again, but it just pains me to see you like this. It's only been a week and you're already…" The pathologist drifted off with a sigh. Tessa said nothing, feeling like nothing came to mind, even with the implied statements that would normally get a rise out of her. She simply was not up to it.

"Tessa, have you talked to him in the last week?" When Tessa opened her mouth in reply, Tootsie added, "I mean, apart from when you dropped off his personal effects earlier."

Tessa met her friend's eyes briefly before shaking her head. "No, not really. He's been busy."

"Busy packing up," Tootsie clarified, to which Tessa only nodded and then looked into her wine glass again. "Tessa… I know you think you're helping, but aren't you really pushing away from him?"

"I wouldn't be the first," she retorted before she could help herself. She was surprised to hear a slight venom in her voice and wondered what the hell was wrong with her.

"Tessa…" Tootsie let out a sigh.

"I'm sorry. I just…" Tessa fiddled with her glass angrily. "I can't believe he's leaving. Even when I cleared up his desk today, it didn't feel real."

"Maybe because you were doing it and not him?" suggested Tootsie. Tessa realised she had not thought about that. It made sense, though. "You know, Dee was right about one thing. He shouldn't lay this on your shoulders. Yes, he's been through some rough stuff and is still coping, but it's still his choice, his decision."

Tessa set the glass onto the table and rose from the sofa, pacing a little bit before slipping out of her jacket and slinging it over the back of a kitchen chair. A hand ran through her hair, messing it up, but she did not care. To hell with it all!

"You still feel guilty, don't you?" asked Tootsie quietly, but her voice carried weight in the tense atmosphere surrounding Tessa. "You're still going out of your way to help him." Tessa halted in her pacing, back to her friend, eyes on the streetlight filtering through the shades.

She suddenly felt tears in her eyes as she remembered his pained eyes and the knowledge that she had not been there for him. The sob stopped in her throat.

A sudden hand on her arm told her Tootsie had stood up from the sofa as well. "You did your best, Tessa. He just couldn't cope with it anymore. But he's also stronger. You can step back now."

It broke the dam Tessa had been storing up for days, and she leaned into the half-hug Tootsie gave her as she led her back to the sofa, crying silently.

The moving van was already speeding down Arthur Street, off towards a new life and new possibilities. A life without Homicide. His car was waiting behind him, the engine running – ready to take off as soon as possible. It stressed her out.

"You're gonna be fine, then?" asked Tessa, shifting on her feet, arms crossed.

"Yeah. Eventually."

His hands were tucked into his pockets and Steve Hayden had never looked more gorgeous. Even with a thin and wearied face, a spark had been lit in his eyes, and Tessa found she could live with anything that made him happy.

"You should come visit sometime," said Steve, giving her a small smile as he scraped the ground with his shoe. Sneakers – not the dark shoes he had to wear to work. There was nothing remotely similar to a Homicide detective in front of her if not in his slightly tense posture. A blue sweater and corduroy trousers had replaced white shirt, navy suit and striped tie. Even his hair was slightly ruffled.

"I could show you the farm," continued Steve and Tessa shook herself out of her momentary reverie. She met his eyes and managed a small chuckle.

"As long as you don't try that 'more stars in the country' routine. It's getting old."

It earned her a slight grin and she felt better, less empty, but the feeling soon drained away as he glanced at the running car behind him, clearly impatient to get on his way.

"I won't hold you up any longer," Tessa told him. "You're probably eager to see your mum and dad again."

She was slightly taken aback when his smile faltered a bit and an indescribable look crossed his features. He scraped the earth again and hunched his shoulders, losing some of the spark in his eyes. Was that…?

"Have a good trip," said Tessa too brightly, realising her mistake when his eyes met hers again. Her heart throbbed painfully and she felt her throat thicken. Inwardly she swore – she was not supposed to lose it in front of him.

Before she could react, Steve had stepped up to her and gathered her in a tight hug. It was like nothing and everything they had done before. And the way his nose snuggled into the crook of her neck brought a sense of finality into the air around them, and to Tessa's insides. In that second she thought she knew all there was to know of the things that really mattered in the world, and she had never felt such a strong pull to stop him from going, to do anything in her power to hold on to him. But she also realised in the same second that it was never meant to be. When they drew apart, that would be it. No turning back from this point. It would be going forward for both of them, but on separate roads. She had wasted her chances and made her choice, just as he had made his.

This was the last goodbye.

The tears in her eyes fell silently down her cheek as she returned the hug fiercely, somehow pouring her everything into it, and his grip was just as tight. She kept back the sob, but he still ran a gentle hand over her hair, pulling her close for another moment and then suddenly the pressure was gone and only cool wind caressed her wet cheeks.

Steve stood between the open car door and the car, staring at her with that same indiscernible look he wore earlier, and then smiled gently at her.

"Keep in touch."

Tessa swallowed her tears and sniffled as quietly as she could. She tried to smile, even if it came out all wrong, she was sure. "You too."

Another heartbeat of silence and then Steve simply nodded and got into the car, closing the door. Tessa gave him a short wave after he got buckled in, and then he was pulling out on Arthur Street, following in the wake of the moving van. Towards a new life without Homicide.

Without her.

End