Coffee and Rain and Lipstick
Disclaimer: I don't own "The Unusuals".
Summary: He swallowed hard, reminding himself that she didn't actually mean it, not the way he wanted her to.
A/N: Hey Everybody! I'm in such a writing mood lately. Thanks for taking the time to read this story. Hope you enjoy!
Christine
000
The first time she said it, she was drunk. Too drunk to mean it. At least that's what he told himself.
They were sharing case-closed drinks. But it wasn't much of a celebration. A kidnapper was tracked down and arrested, but not before he'd killed his victim.
Casey stared down at the drink in her hands. "It's not fair."
Jason didn't argue with her.
"She was so young," Casey continued. "She had her whole life ahead of her, acceptance into college, a boyfriend who loved her... And now she's going to miss out. On everything."
She was getting teary. Jason reached over and slid her glass away. "I think it's time we get you home, Shraeger. Things will look better in the morning. They always do."
But Casey didn't seem to hear him. "Why do people waste so much time? I mean, no one is guaranteed old age. Why don't we live each day to the fullest? No regrets? Why don't we say the things we want to say?"
Jason shrugged. "Fear. Fear of failure, rejection, pain..."
A tear slid down her cheek. "I don't want to be afraid."
Jason pulled her off the bar stool and smiled softly. "I don't want you to be afraid either. Come on. Let's go home." He wrapped his arm over her shoulders to support her staggering gait.
As they drove through the city, street lights reflected off the windshield. Casey watched them for a while and then turned her gaze to him. Jason kept his eyes straight ahead.
"I love you," she whispered.
He swallowed hard, reminding himself that she didn't actually mean it, not the way he wanted her to. She was tired and sad and drunk.
He reached over and squeezed her hand. "I love you too, partner."
She wouldn't remember in the morning anyway.
000
The second time she said it, she was bleeding out on the pavement. Her eyes were wide from fear and shock, surprise more than pain. Jason's hands were covered in her blood, but he held on to her anyway. He'd shot the perp that shot her. The body lay crumpled on the ground only a few yards away.
"Casey? Stay with me. You hear me? You stay with me," he shouted, brushing the hair back from her face.
"I can't," she whispered. "Tired."
"I know," he continued to rock her. The sound of sirens rose through the heavy summer air. "You hear that? People are coming. Help's coming. Promise me you'll stay with me still they get here."
"Jason, I need-" she struggled to speak.
"Shhh," he stopped her. "Save your energy. You can tell me later."
"No... just listen." She reached up a hand to brush his chin. "If I don't make it, you need to know..."
"You are going to make it," he wrapped her fingers in his own. "Please just stop talking. Please. You'll be fine. You'll see."
The ambulance arrived and paramedics rushed toward them.
"I want you to have whatever's in my locker. There isn't actually a journal," she admitted.
Jason choked on a laugh. "That's a little disappointing."
Casey squeezed his hand with the last of her strength. "I love you, Walsh."
And then he was pulled away from her. He sat on the curb as the world around him went silent and the scene before him turned to slow motion.
That night, when she woke up in the hospital bed, Jason bolted up from the tiny plastic chair beside her.
"Hey," she managed.
"Welcome back," he whispered.
Later, he would hear her tell Beaumont that she didn't remember anything from that day. Funny that she could lose a day that he would never forget.
000
The third time she said it, she was sober and uninjured. Walsh crawled out of bed after midnight to answer the incessant banging on his restaurant door. Turning on the lights blinded him. He pulled open the door with a growl.
"We're closed," he raised his voice. "Read the sign!"
Casey took a step back, stumbling in her stilettos. "I really need you to be open right now."
Jason shook his head and rubbed his forehead. "Casey? What are you doing here?" He was finally able to get a good look at her. She was soaked, her black dress and long hair dripping from the heavy rain.
"Did you walk here?"
She was shaking from the cold air. "Yeah, well..."
"Get in here. It's freezing out. Where's your coat?" he demanded, ushering her inside. He sat her down on a counter stool and grabbed a blanket from the back. He wrapped it over her shoulders, then went behind the counter and started a pot of coffee.
"I guess it's still at the restaurant," she answered his question.
"What restaurant?"
"The one I was at with Davis." She named a place that he knew was all the way across town.
He stayed silent until the coffee was finished brewing, then set a mug in front of her.
"What happened?"
"We broke up."
"And he just let you leave like that?"
Casey shrugged. "I kind of made a scene."
"That's no excuse." Jason poured his own cup of coffee and took a long drink. "He should have driven you home."
"I didn't want him to. I could have called a cab, but..."
"Casey, you don't even have your gun with you. What were you thinking?"
"That I really needed to talk to you," she finally looked him in the eyes. "I broke up with Davis because of you."
He met her gaze, searching. She held his stare with a steadiness he couldn't deny. She wasn't drunk. She wasn't dying. He saw nothing but perfect clarity.
And so he said it first. "I love you, Casey."
Relief crossed her face. She pulled herself up to lean across the counter and pressed her lips to his. She tasted like coffee and rain and lipstick. He kissed her back warmly, framing her face with his hands.
"I love you too," she assured him before kissing him again.
He wrapped the blanket tighter around her and pressed his forehead to hers. "I know. I just wish I'd listened to you sooner."
000
The End
000