A/N: Writing this was too tempting for me to pass up, especially since I had the idea swimming in my mind seconds after seeing the obviously-real-but-fake-under-the-circumstances confession from Mal in the latest episode of CoD (that is On Demand at the moment). I was kind of seething after another heartbreaking ending, so this is my way of making up for it. (Although, honestly, I didn't mean for it to be this long! 5,500 words for a oneshot is a bit nuts, I know.)

So, in summary – this story takes place at the end of Chapter Three (season 8), "Crimes of Passion, Part 2". What if Blaise didn't get shot, but Mal did? Alternate ending with a few minor changes. I hope you guys enjoy this.

Two Bridges

I won't run, I won't fly
I will never make it by without you, without you
I can't rest, I can't fight
All I need is you and I
Without you, without you

Having been in the law enforcement for most of his life, even as a kid imagining that he was a policeman, Mal Fallon knew the risks and the life-or-death situations. He knew that in a moment, in a split second, everything could change. A life could be lost, or a life could be saved. He had been through enough to say that he knew that one movement, one action, or one word, could cost not just one life, but many lives.

During those fleeting moments where a choice had to be made in a half of a second, Mal based his decision on the one thing he often fought to keep even though he had lost it so often in his life – love. The love of the people – innocent citizens who deserved to live, not die at the hands of a maniac. But more than that, the love of his close friends, who were like family to him. He would take a bullet for any of them – Ken, Amy, Captain Maria, Bartaugh, Blaise – even Kai, if he was honest to himself about it. However, the one person he would willingly die for in a heartbeat was the woman he had fallen in love with across the span of time since the day he first met her – his partner, Natara Williams.

And so in that moment when Gil Franzen, the crazed assistant of Wesley Vale and the killer they'd been looking for, got up from being knocked over and cocked his pistol straight at Natara, all Mal knew was the one thing he could do – save her. He threw himself right in front of her. Blaise was running from the other direction, frantically trying to knock Gil out, but she was too late.

Everything seemed to be happening in slow motion. The bullet fired out of the gun was flying through the air and seemed to be heading straight into Mal's head. Natara was screaming Mal's name at the top of her lungs, scared out of her life that her partner was going to die saving her. Blaise knocked Gil out by kicking him in the face, just before he could launch another shot. And Mal ducked his head and lifted his left arm just as the bullet pierced right through his flesh.

"MAL!"

Natara had never felt so weak in her entire life. She had never felt so much in despair. Seeing Mal jump right in front of her, she wanted to push him away and stop him from doing something so foolish. She would die if she had to – she'd more rather not see Mal die in front of her eyes. She could not risk losing him. No, she really could not risk losing another man she loved. It was in that second that she finally admitted to herself that she loved Mal Fallon – truly and deeply loved him, and she was sure, more than at any other time in her life, that this was the man she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. She would do whatever it took – she would sacrifice whatever she had to, but she loved him so much and she would never want to see him in pain; whether physically or mentally. Most of all, she would rather sacrifice herself than having to live without him. It was in that very instant that she realised that she needed him more than she thought possible. She had not felt this afraid even when Shawn was shot; and by her own gun, at that. Her fear at losing Mal Fallon was so great that she knew she would not want to go another day without him by her side. That moment confirmed to her every single feeling that had been kept buried since the time she found herself more and more comforted by his presence and his friendship. All those emotions rose to the surface and she knew, it was now or never.

As Mal fell to the ground in front of her, she didn't care who was around and what else was happening around her. His body was slumped on the brick tiles and for a few seconds, his eyes remained shut. Those seconds were an eternity to Natara, and she dropped to the floor, turned Mal's handsome face towards her, and prayed for him to be alive while big droplets of tears formed in her eyes and begun falling like a waterfall.

"Mal, please. Don't you dare leave me. You crazy cop… Please. Please. I love you too."

Within that minute, Mal Fallon's eyes fluttered open and he groaned deeply. He tried to move, and once he did, he let out a sharp gasp of pain. He put his right hand to his left arm, and saw blood. The bullet had punctured his left arm and the thick red liquid was beginning to flow out quickly. Natara, momentarily closing her eyes and breathing in deep with relief that at the very least, he was not dead, switched back to business mode and called for Kai to radio for help. Kai ran to their side and responded that it was the first thing he did after being released from his binds.

"Back-up and paramedics are on their way. Hold on, Mal."

…

Before long, the paramedics arrived, and groups of policemen from the SFPD were there to ensure the safety of the astonished holiday goers who were hostages just minutes ago. As the couples were whisked away, Bartaugh came by to handcuff both Gil Franzen and Wesley Vale, locking them up in the small room on the police boat. Natara approached him and Captain Maria, who made an unexpected appearance at the crime scene. Clearly she saw the graveness of the situation at hand – her detectives, FBI agent and forensic technician were stranded on an island trying to solve a case; one almost died, and one was injured; and the whole media network would go into a frenzy hearing about the entire story, what with Wesley Vale now being locked up again.

Mal lay atop a stretcher, and was being attended to by two paramedics. He was still awake and able to talk, but he knew he was getting weaker – the blood loss was not so much that he was going to faint or die, but the bullet was still in his arm and he had to be operated on.

Blaise walked up to the stretcher where Mal was. He turned to look at her when he saw her, and said, "One heck of a romantic retreat, huh?"

She chuckled lightly. "Oh, you bet, Ashley. How're you doing? That arm gone numb?"

"Not yet – it should feel that way soon, they just injected the morphine."

"Well you'll be alright, cowboy," Blaise offered, putting a hand on his shoulder.

He gave a small smile. "I know I will. Thanks. How about you? You okay?"

She looked like she was in deep thought, and that was not a look she put on frequently. Blaise Corso was a laidback, free-willed woman, and she was more like tumbleweed happily being blown along by the wind, than anything else.

"Mal…" she began. "I just have something to ask you, if you're awake enough to hear it."

His eyes felt heavy, but he was able to keep them open to look at Blaise and continue the conversation. He wanted to hear what she was about to say. When he didn't say anything, she went on.

"What you said just now… about Natara – you really meant everything you said, didn't you?"

That jerked him awake, and he realised that Blaise was asking for a confirmation of what he felt for the woman that was his partner before she came back. He knew Blaise had picked it up before, and she just wanted a clear answer – and he knew that he owed her enough to answer honestly.

He nodded his head and smiled sadly. "Yes, I did. Every word."

She nodded back in understanding with a thoughtful look on her face, and gave him a genuine smile. "Well, ol' partner, you know that I want you to be happy more than anything else. After what happened with Sandra, you deserve someone who loves you, and someone who appreciates you fully for who you are."

"Thank you, Blaise. Really."

"Yeah, so listen. I won't deny that at one stage, a long time ago, I'd hoped that I would be that person. But I can see, clear as crystal, that both of you belong together. And you know that I don't say things like this – I barely do things like this. You are family to me, Mal, and I would not lose you to anyone else… Well, anyone but her," Blaise paused, and rolled her eyes for effect, then went back to being serious. "She is the only person, I believe, who is worthy of the honour of being with you."

Mal had a big smile on his face upon hearing that, but only because it came from Blaise. He knew that she was the type who only said what she truly meant. And for her to say that; was a validation of the fact that Natara was really the one for him. After all, there was no question that Blaise was often right about Mal… and his love life (She told him when they first met that Sandra would not work out, and look what happened. She knows it hurt him greatly though, and that's why she doesn't say anything along the lines of 'I told you so').

Blaise looked down at Mal, who had an expression on his face that spoke emotions of gratitude to her for speaking her mind and for being honest with him in return.

She sighed, "Well, at least I can have that dashing D.A. to myself now… After all, once Natara discovers how you really feel for her – and I'm sure, being a profiler, she should be able to tell by now – she would finally shoo him away and run into your arms."

Mal let out a laugh. "Looking out for the good stuff as always, aren't you."

"Of course. Santos is quite the man, as much as you dislike him," Blaise quipped, and grinned.

Mal rolled his eyes at that, and took a deep breath, the morphine taking over. "You know, Blaise, you will always be like family to me too."

He closed his eyes, letting sleep drown him. Blaise squeezed his hand, then said, "You know it."

She then turned away and let the paramedics bring him to hospital. She walked up to Natara and Captain Maria, who were standing together, Natara just finishing her report on what happened throughout the case.

"Ah, there you are, Detective Corso," Captain Maria Yeong said. "I'll need to hear your report of the case soon. Anyway let's all head back, shall we?"

Natara walked with them to the boat, ready to bring them all back to mainland San Francisco, and got in with them. Right after they arrived, Natara turned to Blaise and Captain Maria. "I'm going to the hospital. I want to make sure that Mal is alright."

Captain Maria nodded and told Natara to get good rest for the night. Blaise gave Natara a cheeky look and a pat on the back. "Go get him," she said, a smile playing on her face, as she winked at Natara.

Natara gave her a surprised stare, then couldn't help returning the smile. "Thank you, Blaise." She hoped that Blaise understood that the 'thank you' was not just for her reassurance, but for her courage and willingness to work in unity to catch the killer.

Blaise nodded in response and walked off to the police car waiting for her. Natara took a taxi, which drove her to the hospital. During the ride there, her mind floated away and recalled the symbolic events that took place that night…

…

"It's Chinese take-out!"

Right after Mal shouted that out loud, time seemed to freeze. It wasn't just that everything around them went silent, and everyone turned to look with surprised faces, but that Natara, upon hearing that, was genuinely stunned. She had been trying to convey what she was thinking with the look she tried to give him through her eyes, and she was pleading for him to do something to intervene when clearly Kai was failing to make a point. But she did not expect him to burst out like that, as though something inside him suddenly exploded. And she certainly did not expect him to actually tell the truth.

Mal himself was astounded at what he was about to do. He suddenly thought that this was his chance to actually say something of worth to people who knew nothing of what he was going through, his genuine thoughts of the very person who was the centre of his attention; without any care of what the consequences were.

He looked at Gil Franzen, who was now looking perplexed at the situation at hand. That, and his gut that kept shouting at him to keep going, gave him the strength and confidence to utter all the words that were now surfacing in his mind.

"Oh, sure, she likes to act all fancy and claim she likes French gourmet or high-end Thai… but there's nothing she likes more than a nice paper box full of Mongolian Beef."

At the end of his sentence, he smiled a genuine smile, recollecting the moments they spent together on the rooftop of his apartment building, sharing Chinese take-out after going undercover at the charity event. He turned to look at Natara, and saw that underneath her gag, she was smiling back at him in return, as though confirming that he was right.

He was playing along, being coy and trying to get closer to Gil and the hostages so that he could free them, but deep down there was a voice in his head echoing the harsh reality that the words coming out of his mouth weren't an act – they were the raw truth, hidden under disguised circumstances.

Gil begun shouting and asking for the truth of what was really happening – and Mal took it as his cue to go all the way.

"You want the truth? I am Mal Fallon, a Detective with the SFPD, and this is my partner, FBI Agent Natara Williams. Now, I wasn't going to say anything for professional reasons, but honestly?"

Mal turned from facing Gil to gazing at Natara, and although part of her face was obscured by the cloth that was secured around the bottom half of her face, he could see her beauty radiating from within her. His eyes, which were the same shade as a cloudless, blue, summer sky, met her deep, chestnut brown ones.

"I love her. I really, really love her."

Gil was unconvinced, believing that it was a trick. Mal shook his head and started speaking with a passion he thought he had lost the moment he signed the divorce papers from his ex-wife, Sandra.

"You want me to prove it? Her birthday's October 24th. Her dad's name is Raj. She likes horses and hates cats. Look in her eyes, Gil. I'm not lying."

Oh, the irony of telling the truth while trying to disarm the killer without him realising.

"Her greatest fear is herself. I mean it. In her darkest, loneliest hours, she worries that she's the kind of person that can't be loved… the kind of person that can't love back. She's been hurt, hurt bad by someone she cared about… and she's afraid that she'll never be able to really trust another person again. She's the bravest woman I've ever met. She's stared down serial killers and fought brutal criminals... But the one thing she's afraid of is that she might be too damaged to ever really be happy."

That was, in Mal's opinion, the greatest profile he had ever done on a person – and of course it would be on Natara, because he knew her the best. Even as he spoke, he could feel every single ounce of pain that she had borne upon her shoulders since she became an FBI agent. Every bit of worry, and every bit of fear. It tore at him, knowing that what he was saying was really true.

Every single word that came out of Mal's mouth hit Natara like bricks falling down on her. They were so true, so accurate, that she felt helpless, even for just one second. How could he know her so well? She was supposed to be the profiler. And yet, he read her better than she could read him. Was she really that predictable? Was she so transparent, especially in front of him?

She steeled herself and held her guise, but she knew that she had given away at least a portion of her admission to the truth of Mal's words.

Gil Franzen seemed to pick it up, and then asked the question everyone was probably thinking – "Have you told her you love her?"

Mal's heart sunk at that, hating that this was the question he dreaded the most. He was trying to disarm a bomb and save innocent lives! There was no time for him to lick his wounds of failure at telling the woman he loved how he really felt!

Grudgingly, he said, "No."

"Why not?"

Why, indeed? Because they were work colleagues? Because he didn't want a repeat of her past with Shawn Mallory? Because he didn't want to see her suffer the pain of losing him to a serial killer, which was indeed possible in their field of work? Because he was afraid she didn't feel the same way? Because he was just a big chicken?

No, he decided. It was because he was waiting. He was waiting for the right time to tell her.

"Because I was waiting for the right time. I wanted it to be perfect. I wanted it to be romantic. I wanted it to be the best moment of our lives."

All the while, Mal had taken small, discreet steps until he was only a mere few feet away from Gil and the hostages. He was about to take another step in Natara's direction when Gil asked his last question.

"But does she love you?"

It took all of Mal's willpower to not steal a look at Natara to see what her response was. But he had a bigger job to do here – one that had Natara's life at stake.

Mal took a deep breath and sighed deeply. "Does it matter? Maybe she loves me. Maybe she doesn't. And if you push that button, I'll probably never know. But you know what? I don't care. This last year, working with her? It's been the best year of my life. And all the C4 in the world can't take that away."

Gil was actually sniffling, taking in the sad romantic story right in front of him. Mal, ever wiser, took a last step towards his target. He knelt right in front of Natara, her eyes level with his. Carefully, Mal reached up to her face and gently stroked her cheek.

And it was as though everything around them faded to black and it was just him and her. Just both of them, and nothing else. Mal prayed with all that was within him that at least a small part of Natara would be able to see that he meant every single word he was about to say.

"I love her. I always have."

Natara had never heard those words said with such genuineness and care about her before. If she wasn't fighting for her own life and for the lives of at least four other hostages with her, she would have been so caught up in the moment that she would be rendered speechless.

That was when a bubble of hope and excitement appeared in her stomach; that this man whom she had thought of and cared for so much over the past year would actually be the one for her – the one whom she could finally learn to trust, for the rest of her life.

…

5:14 AM, a few hours later.

Mal was out of the operating room and on a hospital bed. He was looking surprisingly well for a person who had just been shot in the arm. His face lacked colour, but otherwise he wasn't bedridden or giddy or nauseous. His left arm was fully bandaged up to his shoulder, and was in a sling around his neck. It was completely numb; he could not move his arm even an inch. It didn't hurt that much, however, so Mal decided that it was better he could not feel anything than to feel the excruciating pain of his muscle tissue being torn apart. Because of the bandages around his arm and around parts of his upper body to support the sling, he was shirtless. He was now back to wearing his work trousers, because at first, waking up in the hospital bed after being injected with anaesthetic, he was wearing a hospital gown – and immediately once he felt he was alright to move around, he called for the nurses to help him change – at least, back to his own pants. He had a blanket around his shoulders to keep him warm in the cold hospital ward.

And so this was the state he was in, when Natara walked into his hospital room after waiting for him outside the operating theatre for at least three hours. She had fallen asleep on the chair, tired and worn out after a long and draining day. Her mind was very much awake, but her body was aching for rest and she gave in, letting herself rest for a little while. It was when she suddenly jolted awake from a nurse calling her name that she realised she had taken a nap.

Seeing Mal on the bed as she walked in, she blushed heavily. She had never seen him without a shirt; much less the muscular structure of his upper abdomen. She quickly and smartly averted her eyes from his body, and looked instead at his face, into his eyes.

He looked up in surprise when he saw who it was that walked into the room. He did not expect her to be around – she hated hospitals, and it was late, she should have been resting. But when his eyes met hers, he knew that for whatever reason she was around, he was just so happy that she was there. Seeing her gave him strength. Oh, he was strong even when she was not around; but when she was around, it gave him the extra bit of strength, the extra bit of courage.

"Mal," she greeted, and walked to his bedside. "How's your arm?"

He gave her his signature grin. "Numb," he said. "Can't feel a thing. But I'm alright."

Her face broke into a smile of relief and she knew that he was indeed okay, because he was his usual self – full of sarcasm, Cheshire-cat expressions and all.

"I'm glad," she said, meaning it. "So why aren't you wearing a hospital gown like you're supposed to?"

Mal frowned at her question, and made a mock no-nonsense face. "Natara, I'll have you know that I will not be caught dead or alive wearing a dress… even if it's a gown I'm forced to wear for medical or whatever hygienic purposes."

Natara giggled knowingly, a bubble of laughter escaping from her lips. Mal couldn't help letting a huff out at her reaction, and he thought of how cute she was.

"You didn't have to be here, you know," he said to her, becoming serious. "It's 5:16 AM. And, you hate hospitals."

"I know, but I wanted to," she simply said, looking down, then back at him. She sat on the edge of his bed, and put her hand on his, rubbing it. He looked at her, partly caught off-guard and partly warmed by her touch.

"Do you want to get some fresh air?" he decided to ask. "Apparently the nurse says there's this really nice garden on the rooftop."

"Can you even move?" she asked immediately in response. "You were just operated on barely hours ago and your body is still weak."

Mal put his good hand on hers. "Natara, the doctor assured me that I can move around if I feel fit enough to. And I feel fit enough. Besides, they were operating on my arm, not my stomach or something. I just don't have to move my arm, I can still move the rest of my body."

When she sighed in surrender, he added, "And anyway, regardless, did you think I was going to follow whatever they told me?" A big grin spread across his face and he chuckled. Natara shook her head at him and held his right hand while he shifted his body off the bed.

He walked beside her, his injured arm hanging on the sling. She wanted to hold his other arm to help him but he kept telling her he was fine. They walked to the elevator, which took them up to the rooftop of the hospital building. When they exited the lift, a beautiful sight greeted their eyes.

The rooftop was full of plants and flowers, all in bloom. There were different types of ferns and exotic flowers – birds of paradise, orchids, lilies, fuchsias, poppies, bougainvilleas, roses. There was a section where creepers were grown all over the top of a wooden square arch, and there were benches at the edge of the garden, which gave way to the magnificent view of the San Francisco skyline. The garden was amazingly lit with small lights decorated around the arch and some of the benches, as well as some garden lamps at different places around the plants and flowers. The bright night lights of the city shone enough to provide a glow on all the beauty growing in front of them.

Natara let a gasp escape her lips when she took in the wonder that she saw. She walked slowly around the plants and Mal followed her, until she stopped as they reached the edge of the garden where a bench was.

They sat, facing slightly towards each other so that they could angle their heads to see the city skyline behind them.

"The nurse wasn't kidding when she said it was beautiful," Mal said, breaking the silence.

"This place is amazing," Natara agreed, looking out at the view.

They both sat there quietly for a while longer, gazing at the tall buildings and at the crescent moon in the night sky. Natara turned to look at her partner while he seemed to be in deep thought as his eyes roamed the panorama of buildings around them. Mal felt her eyes on him, but didn't turn to look. For once, he felt a little at peace, just looking at the city where he grew up, and absorbing the moment where he was sitting in a lovely rooftop garden with his partner, whom he loved. He didn't want to ruin the moment.

"Mal," Natara began, "Can I ask you something?"

"Yeah, of course," Mal answered easily.

"The things you said at the retreat… when you were pretending so you could get close to Gil… did you actually mean them?"

Mal's eyes shot up to meet hers the moment she finished asking the question. This was it. This was the time. The time he had been waiting for, to tell her how he really felt. So what if the first time he said it was under false pretences? So what if he didn't get to do it properly that first time? This was his chance, to do it the way he always envisioned in his mind.

Carefully, and lovingly, he placed his good hand on her cheek. Natara met his gaze and it was as though an electric current passed between them. She could suddenly feel her heart beating a billion times a second, and her skin grew hot. She glanced back into his oceanic blue eyes and waited in anticipation for his reply.

"FBI Agent Natara Williams," he said. "I meant every single word."

Her breath caught in her throat and she swallowed hard, unable to believe that this was actually happening.

Mal smiled the handsomest smile she had ever seen, and said everything he had wanted to say to her since the day he knew he wanted to be with her forever.

"I love you, Natara. I always have, and I always will."

She felt as though she was melting inside. She could cry tears of happiness just hearing those words from the man she knew she loved. Her face broke into a beautiful smile, one that said a thousand words. She placed both her hands on his hand that was still on her cheek, and kept it there.

"Well, Mal Fallon, it's good then that I love you too, more than I can say. In the moment where you jumped out in front of me and I thought you were going to die, I knew that I loved you and that I could never live without you. I love you, Mal," Natara said, her voice strong and sure. "I love you."

Never in his life did Mal think he could crumple from the feeling of knowing that the woman he loved felt the exact same way. He let out a breath of surprise and joy, then laughed with contentment. He was so happy, and he was truly happy for the first time in his life.

Natara joined in his laughter, both of them realising how silly they had been to ignore the feelings that were growing in each of them. It was as though all their burdens, all their sorrows, and all their hurt were lifted from their shoulders in that very moment.

She held his one hand with both her hands, and she knew that she never wanted to let go. Their laughter subsided, and when everything grew quiet around them, Mal touched her cheek once again, drew her face close to his, and just like that, their lips finally met in a kiss that would be remembered for lifetimes.

As their faces touched and their lips moulded together in the sweetest kiss of all, Natara wrapped her arms around Mal's waist. He deepened the kiss, and after a few moments, their lips parted, and their foreheads touched as they smiled in mutual bliss. It was the most amazing kiss each of them had ever experienced.

"Ow," Mal suddenly said, as Natara's arm knocked his injured left arm when she tried to lift her arms to put them around his neck.

"Oh gosh, I'm sorry!" Natara said, genuinely fearful that she had hurt him.

Mal snickered. "I'm just kidding," he joked. "You're so cute, you know that?"

She frowned at him and swatted his good arm with her hand.

"You sure you want to do this?" Mal asked, reverting back to seriousness.

Natara knew what he meant. Still, she looked at him with confidence and care and nodded her head, her voice full of love and certainty. She had never been so sure of anything, or anyone else in her life.

"I want to be with you. And you're not going to get rid of me, not anymore."

He smiled again. "Well then I hope you're happy, because you're going to be stuck with me and my sarcasm."

She grinned. "Believe it or not, I can handle your sarcasm. You should be the one worrying about whether you can handle being stuck with me."

He laughed. "Oh, trust me, I can. I could handle you right from the first day I met you. It's how I fell in love with you, and it's how I'm never letting you go."

So it was on that starry morning that Mal Fallon and Natara Williams began their journey together, hand in hand. They had each crossed their bridges and made it to the other side, wrapped up in each others' arms, crazily in love with each other – and indeed, a beautiful beginning it was.