A/N: So I watched "Wilkommen" a couple nights ago, then talked to my dear friend and beta reader, Collider, who happens to love musicals, the next day. The result of those two events is this little one-shot, which is dedicated to her. It's fun and silly and possibly a touch out of character for everyone involved (hopefully not too much), but I had an absolute blast with it, so hopefully you will, too. Besides, it was a nice break from all the angst in my work-in-progress!

Set a few months after 3.18, "Wilkommen," with spoilers through that episode. Slightly L/S shippy (wouldn't be one of mine if it weren't), but mostly just fluffy, flirty friendship. And wine. Lots of wine.

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Not Cold Case, not Cabaret, not Rent, and definitely not Adam Pascal.

Life Is a Cabaret

"I still can't believe I let you talk me into this."

Lilly Rush sat sandwiched between Kat Miller and Nick Vera, both of whom were smirking at her with barely-suppressed glee as their taxi swept through the darkened streets of Philadelphia.

"A Dennis Hofferman memorial production of 'Cabaret' at the newly re-opened and completely renovated Francisville Theater?" Kat's smirk only got bigger. "Come on! We couldn't not go!"

"Heard Rafe got Nora McCarthy off her cruise ship to come back and play Sally," Vera enthused.

"Did you also hear about the big-ass grant he got?" Kat's eyes sparked with eagerness.

"No," Vera replied. "Dish."

"Adam Pascal is playin' the Emcee."

"The Adam Pascal?"

Kat looked extremely pleased with herself. "Why do you think our tickets cost an arm and a leg?"

"Hey, I wasn't the one bitchin' about it," Vera argued.

Her colleagues' heads then swiveled toward her as though they were marionettes attached to one another by wooden beams.

Lilly tugged at her skirt, a navy blue sheath that suddenly seemed too short, too tight. "Okay, Adam Pascal as the Emcee. Got it. Worth every penny."

Kat stared at her for a moment. "Oh, don't tell me you don't know who Adam Pascal is."

Lilly offered a blank smile.

"Adam Pascal?" Kat implored. "Broadway star? Played Roger in the movie production of 'Rent'?"

"Oh, yeah, that guy!" Lilly feigned familiarity, but she could tell by the look of weary exasperation on Kat's face that she hadn't fooled anyone.

"You've never seen 'Rent', have you." It wasn't a question.

"Oh, come on." Vera rolled his eyes. "Everyone's seen 'Rent'."

Lilly fiddled with the clasp on her pocketbook. "Well, not everyone."

"So you're tellin' me you hate musicals so much you won't even watch 'Rent'?" Kat swiveled in her seat to frown at Lilly, her long, sparkling earrings dancing in the dappled light. "What the hell is your problem with musicals?"

"Yeah, you got some deep childhood psychological trauma or somethin'?" Vera asked. "What happened? You try out for the lead role in your high school production of 'Oklahoma' and they turned you down? Made you the understudy?"

Lilly arched a brow in his direction, but he was too caught up in the yarn he was spinning to notice.

"I can see it. You're learnin' your lines for months, goin' through rehearsals, hopin' that other girl gets laryngitis so you can have your moment to shine, but when the time comes, she's healthy as a horse, and you're sittin' there watchin' her get the applause that shoulda gone to you." A thick hand swept over an imaginary horizon. "And ever since that night, you're wonderin' what woulda happened if you'd actually gotten to play Laurey. Oh, sure, you're this badass murder cop now, wouldn't trade it for the world…but parta you still thinks you'da made it to Broadway if you'd just gotten that part."

Lilly fought back the laughter bubbling up in her throat. "Are you finished?"

"Think so, yeah." He let his hand fall back to his lap and turned an impish grin on Lilly. "So's that your deep dark secret?"

"Not even close."

"Oh, well." Vera shrugged. "I tried."

"I don't even have some deep dark secret about musicals." Lilly tightened the wrap around her shoulders. "I just think they're cheesy."

"Cheesy?" The tone of Kat's voice indicated she was taking the pronouncement almost as a personal insult.

"Oh, come on, Miller. Something happens, and then everyone's gotta stop right then and there to sing about it? With sparkly costumes and choreography and jazz hands?" She held her hands up next to her face and jiggled them with exaggerated drama. "Give me a break!"

"So you're tellin' me," Kat retorted, "that you've never had a moment where somethin' happened to you, somethin' amazing, somethin' wonderful, that made your heart feel so damn…full…that you felt like you could just…burst into song?" Her eyes were shining, her face almost aglow.

Lilly was nonplussed. "No! That doesn't happen to real people!"

"It's happened to me." Kat lifted her chin in defiance.

Lilly turned incredulous eyes from Kat to Vera.

"What?" he asked.

"Happen to you, too?"

Vera shrugged and looked out the window. "Once or twice."

"Wow." Lilly's blue eyes bounced from Vera to Kat and back again. "Just when you think you know someone."

"See the show, Lil. You'll know what we mean." Kat reached over and gave Lilly's knee an affectionate pat.

"Besides, we got pretty attached to this crew of actors when we were workin' Dennis Hofferman's case," Vera pointed out.

Kat nodded. "We owe it to them. To him."

Lilly glanced once more from one to the other. "And you two and your ridiculous love for cheesy show tunes had nothin' to do with this."

"Nope." Vera smirked.

"Not a thing," Kat deadpanned.

Lilly smiled. "Uh-huh."

Moments later, Lilly and her colleagues pulled up to the curb of the glittering, brightly-lit explosion of color that was the newly rehabbed Francisville Theater. Kat and Vera split the fare, which, as she climbed from the cab and smoothed her skirt, Lilly grudgingly had to admit was generous.

When she looked up, her eyebrows shot halfway up her forehead at the sight of Scotty standing next to Jeffries just beneath the marquee."Et tu, Valens? Will?"

"I like a good show once in a while," Jeffries said.

"Nothin' good on TV." Scotty shrugged and offered a slight grin. "Nice dress, by the way."

"Thanks." She plucked at her skirt again. "You, uh…don't look too bad yourself." He really didn't. In fact, taking in his stylish sweater-and-sports-coat combination, Lilly realized she was very likely seeing what her partner might look like on a date. The thought almost made her giggle.

"Yeah, you two clean up pretty good." Vera leered first at her, then at Miller, who rolled her eyes.

"Shut up."

"What?" Vera spread his hands in mock innocence. "I'm not allowed to give compliments?"

"You got the tickets?" Jeffries asked Kat, who nodded and unzipped her wallet.

After pulling out a sheaf of tickets and distributing them to the rest of the squad, Kat turned to Lilly, the last ticket held in an outstretched hand. "Okay, Lil, here's the deal. You see this show with us, and if you still hate musicals when it's over, we'll never say another word about it."

Next to her, Vera opened his mouth to say something, but Kat shut him down with a look. "Ever."

Vera pouted. "Fine."

Lilly looked from Vera to Kat and back again. "Promise?"

"Scout's honor." A teasing grin tugging at his lips, Vera held up three fingers on his right hand.

"All right." With a heavy, reluctant sigh, Lilly took the ticket from Kat's outstretched hand. "Let's go get this over with."

Kat smiled and nodded in satisfaction, then turned to smile up at the stark black letters on the brand-new, brilliant white marquee, shaking her head in amazement. "Adam Pascal right here in Philly. Never thought I'd see the day."

Lilly stared at the marquee with considerably less enthusiasm. How the hell was she going to get through the next two and a half hours?

It's a dinner theater now, y'know," Scotty said close to her ear. "Full-service. Booze and everything."

"Yeah?" This was the most welcome news Lilly had heard all evening.

Scotty's grin widened. "Scout's honor."

"Kinda fitting, really." Jeffries' eyes twinkled with mischief. "You can drink a Cabernet while you watch 'Cabaret.'"

The squad groaned in unison as Jeffries opened the door, and, her stomach churning with dread, Lilly followed her colleagues into the noisy, crowded lobby. Pasting a plastic smile onto her face, she handed her overpriced ticket to a uniformed usher and took a deep breath, thinking of the many thousands of places she'd rather be than here.

Oh, well. It didn't matter. Two and a half hours from now, she'd be a free woman.

When the show ended, Lilly and her colleagues spilled out of the packed theater, the air abuzz with excitement, electricity…and, well, okay, maybe some of the Cabaret Cabernet she'd chugged during the show. Cabaret Cabernet. God, what a horrible joke. She suppressed a giggle.

"Oh, my God," Kat gushed as the five detectives formed a little cluster on the sidewalk. "That was amazing. I feel like I'm floating."

"Lot better than sittin' home watchin' reruns on TV." Scotty straightened the collar of his jacket.

"And Adam Pascal?" Kat's luxuriant twisted hair practically shook with her excitement. "Oh, that man can sing."

"So can my girl Nora." Vera's eyes twinkled. "Cruise ship's been good to her."

"Orchestra sounded good, too," Jeffries added. "Looks like Lyle's replacement is doin' a fine job."

"Oh, I'm gonna be singin' those songs for a week," Kat exclaimed, then, to Lilly's horror, struck a dramatic pose right there on the sidewalk. "'What good is sittin' alone in your room? Come hear the music plaaa-aaayyyy…'"

"Stop it." Lilly dropped her head into her hands.

"'Life is a cabaret, old chum,'" Vera supplied, and then the two of them locked eyes and belted out the last line together. "'Come to the cabaret!'"

Scotty and Will whistled, Lilly groaned, and a handful of passersby applauded. Vera accepted their accolades with a jaunty wave, while Kat took an exaggerated bow before turning to Lilly.

"Okay, come on, Lil. There is no way you can still hate musicals."

Lilly winced. "Sorry, Miller."

Kat's jaw dropped. "After seein' that? Hearin' those voices? That music?"

"I don't know what to tell you." Lilly raised her hands slightly, then let them drop to her sides. "I tried."

"'There was a cabaret…'" Vera intoned solemnly, "'and there was a master of ceremonies…and there was a city called Berlin, in a country called Germany…and it was the end of the world.'"

"Oh, God. Chills. Chills." Kat rubbed her bare arms, while Vera looked very pleased with himself, more pleased with the smattering of applause from the last trickle of patrons exiting the theater.

Kat turned her attention toward Lilly. "You're tellin' me that did nothin' for you?"

"I'm afraid I'm a lost cause."

"Well, then, it's official, Rush," Vera announced. "Your soul is made outta concrete."

Lilly gave a slight shrug. "Fair enough. But we do have a deal, which means you two"—she indicated Vera and Kat—"have to stop givin' me crap."

"Fine." Vera rolled his eyes.

"You'll never hear another word." Kat folded her program in half and slipped it into her purse.

Lilly gave a relieved sigh. "Thank you."

"So, hey, anyone up for a nightcap?" Vera stepped to the edge of the curb and raised his right arm to hail a cab.

"Sitter's on the hook 'till midnight." Kat glanced at her watch. "I got time."

"I'm in," Jeffries replied. "Lil?"

Lilly smiled. "I think I've had enough for tonight."

"Scotty?" Vera asked. "You comin'?"

Scotty shook his head. "Catch you next time."

A yellow taxi pulled up to the curb, and the other three climbed in. Lilly watched the taillights recede in the distance, then turned to Scotty with a slight smile. "Headin' home?"

Scotty tossed his program into a nearby trash can. "Yeah, I think I've had enough of those three fanwankin' for one night. Want me to get you a cab?"

"Thanks, Scotty, but…it's a nice night. I just figured I'd walk."

"Want some company?" he asked.

Lilly grinned. "Sure."

She quickly fell into step with her partner's long-legged stride, and they walked a few blocks in companionable silence, enjoying the gentle, late September breeze. A slight nip in the air hinted at autumn, but it wasn't enough to make Lilly feel cold. Then again, the untold amount of wine she had sloshing around in her system might have something to do with that.

That was some really good wine.

Suddenly, Scotty pulled to a stop next to her, the fine lines across his forehead deepening in a frown.

"What?" Lilly asked.

"You're singin' that song."

"No, I'm not." Granted, the strains of the show's signature tune were firmly lodged in her skull, but she sure as hell hadn't given voice to them. She was almost positive.

Wait…had she?

"You were hummin' it." A smirking Scotty answered her silent question.

"I was not!"

He laughed aloud. "You were, too!"

Lilly flung her hands up in defeat, but she couldn't hide her smile. "Well, what do you expect? That damn song's stuck in my head!"

"Mine, too, now. Thanks for that." With another slight chuckle, he walked forward a few paces, then stopped again, his sharp brown eyes studying her for a moment before widening in disbelief.

"Hey, wait a minute, wait a minute." A knowing grin crept across his face. "You liked it."

Lilly fiddled with her wrap. "No, I didn't."

"Yes, you did." His grin widened. "You liked that show."

"So? You did, too."

"Never said I didn't." One broad shoulder lifted in a shrug. "But I ain't the one goin' on and on about how much I hate musicals."

Lilly stared into his shining eyes for a moment before finally rolling her own skyward and heaving a sigh. "Fine, Scotty. Fine. I liked it."

A bubble of laughter burst from her partner's throat.

"I liked the story, anyway."

"Sure."

"And—and the costumes. And the music… the singing, the dancing, the lights, the music..."

Scotty's dimples deepened. "You said that already."

Lilly sighed. "It was…it was magic, okay? Are you happy now?"

His laughter was yet another form of music, warm and infectious. Emboldened by it and the copious amount of wine she'd downed, Lilly flung her arms to the side and spun in a wobbly circle. "Go on, Scotty! Tell the world! Lilly Rush likes musicals!"

She'd almost made a full revolution when one of her heels caught on a crack in the sidewalk, and she pitched forward, only to land in a pair of strong, steady arms. Her cheek brushed against her partner's shoulder, and she caught a whiff of the exotic-smelling aftershave he always wore.

"Never woulda figured you for a cheap date, Lil," he said as he helped set her to rights.

Lilly brushed at her skirt and started to walk again. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"How much wine did you have, anyway?"

"Probably more than I should have." The quiet hiccup that bubbled up from her diaphragm punctuated her answer; she hoped against hope Scotty hadn't heard it, but his mischievous grin told her, in no uncertain terms, that he had.

Heat crept into her cheeks. "Hey, it was good wine."

"Cabernet for 'Cabaret,' right?"

"Exactly that. Hey." She stopped, whirled toward him, and plucked at his coat sleeve. "I never heard you sing!" God, her voice was loud.

Scotty's dark brows slammed together. "What?!"

"Back in March, when we were workin' Dennis Hofferman's murder." She tossed a lock of hair behind her shoulder. "Everyone sang part of that stupid song to me except you! And Boss, but I'll get him tomorrow." Another hiccup jolted her chest. Dammit.

Scotty gave a slight chuckle and started walking again. "We're cops, Lil. We don't sing."

"Miller sings." Lilly's heels clattered on the sidewalk as she hurried to catch up with her partner. "Will sings. Nick sings."

Scotty laughed. "If you wanna call that singin'."

"Point taken." Lilly smiled and fell into step with him once more. "But I never heard you sing. I bet you have a nice voice." His speaking voice certainly qualified. Deep, warm…sexy, even, and wow she'd had too much wine.

He stopped and turned to face her, a hint of crimson creeping into his tanned skin. "I told you. I don't sing."

"Oh, come on." Lilly swatted him lightly across the chest with her rolled-up program. "Everyone sings."

"I don't."

Lilly grinned. "You gotta at least sing in the car."

"Nope."

"In the shower?"

"Dream on, Lil."

"You can't hate music," she spluttered. "It's not possible. Even I don't hate music!"

"Well, that's obvious." He smirked, and she swatted him again.

"Shut up."

"Hey." Laughing, he fended off her feeble blows. "I never said I hate music. I just said I don't sing."

Lilly looked up at him. "Never ever? Not once in your whole life?"

A strange, soft look came into those dark eyes, and he reached forward and straightened her wrap. "Okay, Lil. You win. I was in the children's choir at St. Agatha's for a couple years."

His fingertips lingered on the edge of her wrap for a moment before lowering uncertainly to his sides, and she peered into those chocolate brown eyes, fringed by sinfully long eyelashes. The slight, dimpled grin he was giving her was even more boyish than normal, and she was suddenly able to conjure up an image of what her partner must have looked like as a child.

"I bet you were adorable."

"Adorable?" Scotty laughed. "Nah. I was a pain in the ass. Ask my mom. She'll tell you."

"You might have been a pain in the ass, but…" Her impish fingers reached up to rest on the plane of his freshly-shaven cheek, which she gave a slight, affectionate pat. "Also adorable." She beamed at him for a moment, then turned around to continue down the sidewalk.

"Wow, Rush. You really are drunk."

She stopped and looked back over her shoulder. "Why?"

Scotty's smug gaze slid from her to the blue front door of a brownstone that looked suddenly, embarrassingly familiar. "'Cause this is your house."

"So it is." Lifting her chin and summoning as much dignity as she could muster, Lilly turned around and walked back toward Scotty, who met her in the middle, at the bottom of her front steps.

He studied her with a curious mixture of concern, amusement, and something else that, in her foggy state, she found impossible to name."You, uh…you all right here?"

"Fine, Scotty." She nodded. "Thanks."

Suddenly, with her in a dress and heels and him in that sweater and sport coat, the moment suddenly took on a strange, end-of-a-date vibe. At first, she thought it was all in her addled head, but the look on Scotty's face told her he'd picked up on it, too.

After a few seconds' hesitation, he reached out, cupped the back of her neck, pulled her close, and pressed a kiss to her forehead."G'night, Lil."

His impulsive gesture did much to clear her alcohol-induced fog. "You've never done that before."

"No." The grin blooming on his lips was uncharacteristically shy. "And, hey, you've never been to a musical before. It's a night for firsts."

"A night for firsts?"

"Hey, you ain't the only one that's been drinkin'." Scotty looked into her eyes for a moment, then cleared his throat and stepped back. "Anyway…see you tomorrow."

He turned to walk away, and she called after him.

"You're not gonna tell everyone else, are you?"

'Bout what?" He grinned back at her. "'Bout how Miller made a Broadway convert outta you?"

She responded with an embarrassed smile, and he chuckled again. "Don't worry, Lil. Your secret's safe with me."

"Okay." She breathed a sigh of relief. "Thanks, Scotty. For…walkin' me home."

"My pleasure." He smirked. "Ain't every night I get to see Detective Rush drunk off her ass."

She glared at him with as much frostiness as she could muster, which, frankly, wasn't much, then gave up and smiled. "Night, Scotty."

"Night, Lil."

As she watched him stroll down the sidewalk, Lilly dropped her handbag, grabbed a lamppost, and swung herself around it in a couple of lazy circles, enjoying the cool breeze on her face, the tickle of her hair against her elbows. Her insides were bubbling with feelings. Feelings about the show, about Scotty, about his smile, his laughter, how adorable he must've been as a boy, about the fact that she could still feel the gentle pressure of his lips on her forehead, and she just felt so content, so at peace, so—so full…and then all of a sudden, a strange stirring began in her chest, one that she somehow knew was about to fling itself into her throat and out her mouth.

"Hey, Scotty!"

From his spot two doors down from her, he turned to look at her. "Yeah?"

Dangling from the lamppost, she flashed a wicked grin, then took a deep breath and started to sing at the top of her lungs.

"'Life is a cabaret, old chum…'"

With a quiet chuckle, he shook his head and walked on. She watched his retreating back for a moment, her heart still inexplicably full.

Suddenly, on the breeze, so softly she could barely hear it, came a rich, lilting baritone.

"'...and I love a cabaret.'"