A/N: Okay, the idea for this story came out of nowhere as I was watching Jaws 2. As a lifelong fan of the films (well, not so much Jaws 3…it tried), I will say I have never really looked at Brody this way before the idea popped into my head, though I guess I've always harbored a bit of a crush on him (something about tanned men in khaki – e.g. Muldoon in Jurassic Park – guess I was exposed to that look a lot as a kid…anyway, I digress). This does get a little dark at times, with prominent sexual themes and very subtle suggestions of a sub/dom relationship (not entirely intentional).
Love Bites
He heard her voice before he saw her.
The office was brimming with activity; locals trying to get his attention to complain about some tiny infraction or another, his secretary reminding him of missed phone calls and problems that still needed to be resolved, and his deputy, Hendricks, complaining about his recent job assignment. Meanwhile, all he could think about was that damn shark. Then he heard the shy, breathy voice and a mixture of relief and dread ripped through him. The relief came first, associating the sound with release and brief respite. Then came the dread; the guilt and fear of being caught with a woman half his age.
Woman. She could barely be called that. At nineteen, Mira should have been off partying with the rest of the kids on summer vacation, fooling around with some bronzed surfer dude, making love under the sun among the sand dunes. Instead, she had taken an interest in law enforcement, become enamored with Amity's chief of police, and then one night, after a few drinks in the office, had found herself bent over the chief's desk as he made the first of many, many mistakes.
After what had happened with the first shark all those years earlier, he had returned to normal life only to find it wasn't the same. The life of the chief of police was a repetitive grind, ending each day with a reminder of a marriage on the rocks, and two sons desperately in need of his attention. He needed a break, but more than that he needed a thrill – something to give him the same rush he had felt looking that enormous monster in the eye as he had blown it up. Mira had become that rush.
She smiled as he spotted her in the crowd, and once again he felt himself gripped by her beauty. Her skin had the same bronze glow of all the Amity natives, with golden locks flowing down against it and big, blue eyes that made her look so innocent; but it was her smile that brought it all together. It always appeared the moment he met her gaze, quickly followed by a gentle blush that never failed to stir something primal in him. As he looked at her now, he wanted nothing more than to drag her into his office, shut everyone else out, and find a way to get her long, smooth legs over his shoulders.
"Chief, I need to talk to you," she tried to call above the others, only to be pushed aside by one of the older locals as they attempted to do the same, only with more vigor. Brody threw her an apologetic look, gesturing with a nod to the many others vowing for his attention, then his expression grew stern. She knew better than to approach him in the workplace; even if she was aspiring to one day join the team. Used to being pushed aside to accommodate his other priorities, Mira disappeared out of the station and back onto the street outside.
He saw her again the following evening, seeking her out in a moment of selfish, impulsive need. He had gone out and bought a six-pack after being fired from his position – a decision brought about by a reckless display at the beach that day following a shark scare. The damn shark was ruining his life all over again.
She had seemed pleased to see him at first, her cheeks glowing a pretty pink after he risked a quick peck on the lips. The moment she smelled the alcohol, a little frown had worked its way onto her brow. It was almost cute. He reached out to brush his fingertips against the little crease but she pulled away. Then his hand found its way into her hair, balling into a fist against the back of her head as he forced her to remain where she was. He stared at her, smiling as her eyes grew defiant, determined not to give in to the pain despite the tears glistening in her eyes. She never liked to make a fuss, no matter how he treated her – though he wasn't often rough like this, his moods were unpredictable – knowing no matter how pretty she was, how willing she was to give him what he wanted, he still had a wife to go home to at the end of the day; he didn't need her. Not the same way she needed him.
He had found her in what she had once confided to him as her 'secret spot' – a secluded stretch of beach not far from where she lived. He had joked to her later that same day, as they lay breathless in the privacy of the back of his truck, that he was sure he'd found her other 'secret spot', reveling in the mischievous little laugh the joke had drawn from her.
"I wanted to talk to you about something," she said now, but after the day he'd had, her usually-smooth voice now grated on his nerves, sounding almost needy.
"No talking."
He released his grip on her hair and she pouted.
"But I really think you should –"
"What did I just say?"
He jabbed a finger in her direction, warning her against further speech, and she was quick to give in to the demand.
"Now come here."
She looked up, her downcast expression melting away as her eyes lit up once more. He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her deeply, in the way she knew would only lead to one thing.
They ended up in the back of his truck, where they had found themselves several times before, and feeling that young flesh beneath him, hearing her moan 'Oh, Chief' in that way that drove him crazy, he once again felt that rush he had been missing. As they lay side by side afterwards, sweating and naked on top of the spare blanket he kept in the back, he caught her gazing at him as she bit her lip. He could tell she wanted to say something; but she was taking his order so seriously, wanting desperately to be a good girl for him. She wasn't stupid – far from it, in fact, passing all of her final exams with high marks that could have gotten her into some decent college on the mainland had she wished to do so. She was simply a young girl in love; foolish, obsessed and eager to please.
There were times of painful lucidity where he realized what he was putting her through, the way he was stringing her along for his own selfish reasons, and he considered breaking things off; making it clear they couldn't see each other like this anymore. Then he'd catch sight of her naked body, the way she looked at him like nothing would make her happier than feeling him moving against her, and all thoughts of ending things would dissolve away. She was his little vacation away from reality.
Looking at her now, he drew her closer, further sealing that fateful bond that kept her coming back to him time and time again. He felt her grin into his chest as he planted a sloppy kiss on top of her head, and against his will his mind drifted to home, where Ellen was waiting, probably with some dinner and some wine. She'd be worried, more than likely having already heard the news of his dismissal, but even the thought of her fretting wasn't enough to tear him away from his little prize.
He would often think up scenarios to test the way he felt about her, certain he could not love the girl in the same way he loved his dear wife, thinking perhaps it was something verging on paternal, or maybe just the way she always made it so easy for him. He would imagine her in turmoil, or in situations that would otherwise make any man jump into action, but still he never seemed able to put his finger on what it was he felt for her.
One of the scenarios he had first tested, was the thought of her with another man. Since he couldn't give her what she wanted – what she no doubt needed – he knew that task would have to eventually fall to someone else. But the idea of her turning her attention to another man; the thought of her wrapping her legs around some other man's waist and calling out their name instead of his…
The theory had been put into practice one day as he had gone to the marina to investigate a dispute between two fishermen, who each claimed the other had rammed their boat. Mira had been there taking notes, helping question a couple of witnesses when he'd turned to find her smiling and chatting up a handsome young surfer who had been passing through. He had watched as she caught a loose strand of her hair and twirled it, before brushing it back behind her ear; an flirty gesture he had only ever seen her do around him. It was the ember that sparked a new kind of rage. Deep down he knew she deserved better, to be with a good-looking youngster like that instead of jaded old man like him; still he couldn't help but want her all to himself.
Another scenario he had considered, was Mira being taken by the shark. She had been fifteen at the time of the first attacks. He remembered meeting her father for the first time, shaking hands as his eyes fell upon the inquisitive teen by the other man's side.
"Is it true?" she had asked, "Is there really a shark out there?" And it hadn't been fear in those eyes, but a sharp curiosity that intrigued him.
"You're not scared?"
"No," she'd replied, "I want to help, if I can."
"Careful, Jim," he'd joked with her father, "Or this one might end up another one of those jokers up at the Amity Police Department."
Her father got a good laugh out of that one – if only he had known that four years later that same man would be screwing his daughter in the back of the police wagon with nothing but selfish disregard bringing him back for more.
That idea – finding her little boat abandoned out at sea with a telltale bite in the hull to mark her fate, or seeing her taken in the jaws of the animal much the way Quint had been – had only unearthed one feeling; one which he had long been harboring in the depths of his subconscious: guilt. The same guilt that gave him nights of restless sleep, that distracted him as it popped up unexpectedly in the middle of investigations; guilt that drove him daily to decide to break things off with her, and the anger that took its place when he failed to follow through with it.
Allowing himself to relax under the Mira's embrace, he spotted the corner of her little notebook sticking out from the pocket of her discarded shorts. He reached over and plucked it out, resting a reassuring hand on top of the girl's head as she dozed. Flicking through the pages, he skimmed over notes she had taken while out on cases, either with him or Hendricks: witness statements, bullet-point details, the occasional diagram or sketch. Turning to the next page he smiled at the beautifully detailed drawing of a seagull perched atop a buoy out at sea. He wondered if she'd come up with this one herself, or if she had seen it first hand in that little dinghy of hers. He didn't know how she could stand to be on the water after that fateful summer – how anyone in Amity, for that matter, could still be so fascinated by the water. He'd had enough adventures at sea to last him a lifetime. In that moment, his mind went to Hooper and a new idea began to take shape.
Hooper was a good friend, a man he respected, and not too old to make a decent match for the girl. Brody knew the man's family was well-off – he would be able to look after her, they could settle down, have a family, everything Mira deserved. Hooper was a good-looking guy; he was certain the two would hit it off. He made a mental note to set up a date between them, once Matt made it back from his latest research expedition – another one who'd yet to lose their taste for life on the water. Yes, he was sure they'd get along just fine.
Turning to the next page in the notebook, he found a half-finished sketch of the sun setting over the bay – what she had likely been in the middle of completing when he had so thoughtlessly interrupted her. She hadn't seemed to mind too much; greeting him with a happy grin, glad to be given a chance to be close to him once again. She always grew worried in those stretches of silence or professional indifference, wondering if he had finally decided to put an end to things.
She wasn't an idiot. She knew this was never going to go anywhere other than the occasional secret rendezvous to satisfy both their physical desires. She didn't expect him to leave his wife and kids for her – she knew he never would. Still, she had grown to look forward to these moments with him. She had plenty of offers from other, younger men, to take her out to dinner, or out sailing, or to parties on the beach. But there was something about Martin Brody that attracted her on a deeper level. Maybe it was the authority figure he represented, or the way her small hometown idolized him for taking on the killer shark. Or maybe it was as simple as the thrill of sneaking around. Either way it didn't matter; she knew he wouldn't like it if she accepted any of those invitations, and she didn't want to take any risks with him. The last time he had caught her flirting with another man, he had been furious, taking it out on her that night on her secluded stretch of beach. He had been a lot rougher with her that time, almost as if he was desperate to mark her as his own, and she had come to find she liked him better that way. So she found new ways to press his buttons whenever she could.
Gazing up at him now, she slowly pushed aside her notebook to get a better glimpse at his face. He tore his eyes from her sketch to cast her a look of disapproval.
"So what exactly are you gonna do if I start talking?" she smirked.
He could see straight away what she was trying to do, and desperate as he was to ignore her, the fact that she was purposely trying to get him riled up only turned him on more.
"Probably bend you over my knee if you keep it up."
He gazed at her, watching her sharp, playful eyes as she calculated a response, unable to suppress his grin when she finally replied, "Just tell me which knee, Chief."
He put down the notebook and grabbed her, pulling her on top of him, attempting to hush her as she gave a playful shriek. She was still ready from their previous session, and he slid easily back into her. As he listened to her contented sigh and felt her take up her usual pace, he wondered if he really did ever want this to end.
The call had gone out – she was out on the water somewhere in that tiny boat of hers, with a huge beast prowling around in the waters beneath them. It was one of his imagined scenarios come true.
He had just left Hendricks and Ellen on Tina's Joy with a traumatized Tina Wilcox, his own son still out there somewhere with his buddies sailing for the old lighthouse, when the rescue helicopter had radioed in about the little dinghy. He'd recognized it from the description alone. As he steered towards it now, furious at her for being so reckless, he prayed he would find her alive and well.
Relief rushed over him the moment he saw her waving him over.
"What's going on, Chief?" she asked.
"Get on!"
Her smile had faltered and she hurriedly tied her boat to his. As she got to her feet once more, he took her by the shoulders and shook her.
"What the hell were you thinking?"
She just stared back, eyes wide, tears already beginning to form.
"Christ, come here." He pulled her into his arms, hugging her tightly. "Are you alright?"
"Yeah, I'm…I'm okay. What is it? Is it the shark?"
He nodded as he stepped back from her. "It took Eddie Marchand."
"Oh my god."
"Yeah. I just had Hendricks and Ellen take Tina back to shore. She was practically catatonic. Saw the whole thing happen. You haven't seen anything out here?"
She shook her head, taking a seat behind him by the wheel. Her expression had grown uncomfortable at the mention of his wife. He glanced at her as he redirected them towards the lighthouse.
"Mike's out there somewhere with his buddies," he informed her, brow furrowing when she failed to react. "What's wrong?"
She sighed ad bowed her head. "I've been trying to talk to you this entire week…"
"Oh, geez, Mira, I've been a little busy. Now's not the time."
"There may not be any other time," she snarled back, and he turned to look at her. He had never once heard her speak to him that way. He considered her statement – he had been lucky enough to escape the jaws of death once; he didn't expect fortune to smile upon him a second time. But he couldn't think of anything that could be so pressing that they would need to talk about it now.
"What? What is it?"
She dropped her gaze once more, struggling to gather the right words. If this was a plea to keep her around, to not throw away their relationship the way she expected him to, she wasn't making the best opening statement.
"Martin, I'm pregnant."
There was a brief moment where all he could hear was the ocean roaring around them – all he could feel, the rocking of the boat atop the waves. He saw his whole life falling down around him; Ellen divorcing him, taking the boys to live with her mother on the mainland, leaving him jobless and alone in an empty house, a disgraced ex-cop. He blinked a few times and with a deep breath managed to swallow back the terror that was engulfing him.
"What the hell are you talking about?"
"I went to the doctor with my ma on Monday. She was so mad, Martin."
He stepped towards her, thrown by her repeated use of his first name. She had only called him by it once or twice before, usually to let him know when she was being serious. From the frightened look on her face, he knew this wasn't a joke.
"Does she know? What did you tell them?"
She looked down at her wrist, where he had taken hold of her in a vice-like grip, and yanked herself free.
"No. I didn't say anything."
He paused a moment, mind racing as he checked that they were still on the right course.
"Are you sure I'm the father?"
When he looked back at her he caught her offended scowl.
"I oughta slap you, you know that?" she told him.
"Christ, I didn't mean…"
"You're the only man I've slept with. You know that."
"Yeah." He ran a hand back through his close-cropped hair. "So what are you gonna do about it?"
She caught his gaze one more, her face still drawn in a sharp scowl. "What do you mean?"
She was really going to make him say it.
"With the, you know, with the baby. What are you going to do? Are you gonna keep it?"
"Yeah, I am."
He nodded his head, before bowing it, accepting that nail in his coffin.
"And before you say anything," she began, holding up a hand as he opened his mouth, "I don't want anything from you. I don't want money, and you don't need ta be around for it."
Money. His mind went back to his little plan with Hooper and he wondered if he could still carry it out. The man wasn't due back from his trip for months yet – she would have well and truly had the baby by then. Maybe Hooper wouldn't mind. Maybe if he explained the situation…
Who was he kidding? She wasn't a 'My First Family' starter pack, ready to be wed with a babe in arms. God, what had he done to her? Her parents were probably going to kick her out, she would be ostracized by the very town she had grown up with; what the hell was she going to do?
"What's the plan?" he asked her, trying hard to not look as guilty as he felt.
She looked out across the water, scuffing her feet against the boat floor.
"Hendricks deputized me yesterday," she told him. "I think he panicked after you left. Told me he really liked working with me, that I do a good job helping out."
His expression softened upon hearing this bit of news, looking almost proud of her. "Why didn't you tell me last night?"
"You said you didn't want to talk."
He scoffed and shook his head, receiving a playful shove in return.
"See? Now, there you go. You just gotta start being a little more assertive. 'Specially if you're going to be a mother and a cop. Here, take this, will ya?" He stepped aside, gesturing to the wheel. "Figure you'd know more about this than I would."
"Where are we headed?"
"The old lighthouse." He caught her smirk and watched as she checked the compass and readjusted their path. "What?"
She glanced over. "Nothing…It's just, the lighthouse, it's where kids go to, you know, fool around."
For a moment he thought of Mikey and reasons he had been so adamant about joining the others on the sailing trip, then his eyes came to rest on her long, bronze legs, trailing up to the pert, round buttocks, and the pair of sun-bleached denim shorts that covered them. He stepped up behind her, resting his hands on her hips as he pulled her back against him, kissing her on the neck, but felt her shrink beneath his touch. He sighed and his hands fell away.
"What are we going to do?"
"What do you mean?" she asked.
"Well, I can't just go about business as usual on the island knowing you're carrying my kid. I'd like to at least be there, in some way."
"So let's kill this shark. You get reinstated as sheriff and, as my boss, you can show the appropriate level of care that any employer would."
He chuckled at that and she finally relaxed back against him. His hand worked its way around to her belly and he planted a kiss on top of her head.
"I meant that I want someone to be there for you. More permanently. I've got this friend I think you'd like."
She turned her head, eyes narrowed. Was he suddenly so eager to have her off his hands?
"You've met him before, back with the other shark. Hooper."
"Yeah. I remember him. He was cute," she said without conviction, instead trying to test his reaction, hoping to catch a flash of jealousy. She was annoyed to see him smile.
"See, I knew you'd like him. I'd like to introduce you two a little better."
"Like a date?"
"There's no one else I'd trust more to look after you. Plus I think you've got a lot in common."
"God, lucky Quint didn't make it back," she joked dryly. "So, what, you stick a sign on me 'Slightly used, runs just fine if you warm her up a little first'?"
He chuckled. "You know, if the deputy thing doesn't work out for ya, you'd make a hell of a used car salesman."
She threw him an unimpressed look, shrugging out of his embrace, and focused on steering.
"Aw, come on, now. You know I didn't mean anything by it."
"Is it really that easy for you to get rid of me? I mean, do I really mean that little? I become too much of a problem for you, so you just pass me off to the next guy?"
He placed a hand in the small of her back and leaned for to get a look at her face, spotting the tears glistening in her eyes. She refused to look at him, keeping her determined gaze trained forward. Then he took her by the shoulders once more, this time far more gently, and pulled her into a hug. She fought it at first, her body tense as tears spilled down her cheeks, then finally she gave in and he felt her body shake with a sob.
"I just want you to be happy, kid. You deserve so much more than all this. More than I can give you, anyhow."
Silence passed between them after she returned to the helm, punctuated with the occasional thump as the boat hit a wave, until it finally reached the point Brody couldn't stand it any longer. Despite working a job that often had him yearning for peace and quiet, longs bouts of silence made him uncomfortable. He credited that to the dreaded 'Silent Treatment' Ellen had so often bestowed upon him. He had no doubt in his mind that if she ever found out the truth about Mira's condition, that silence would become a lot more permanent.
"Who else knows?" he asked the appointed captain.
"Huh?" she called back above the rising ocean winds.
"Who else have you told, besides your ma and the doctor? Does your father know?"
"Ma said she was going to talk to him for me."
Brody nodded, knowing just how well that was going to go down.
"What do you think he'd do if he knew?"
"Probably kill you."
He nodded again, his own paternal instincts falling in line with the statement. "Yeah, I reckon he would. I wouldn't blame him."
Mira glanced over at him. "It's not like it's your fault. Takes two. And I can't say I didn't enjoy it."
He caught her grinning from his seat to her left. "Is that right?"
"Yeah. I guess we'll have to stop now, though, huh?"
"Yeah. I think that'd be a good idea."
But he wasn't so sure. The damage had already been done. Though her parents might become a little stricter about her comings and goings, if she was going to be working with him at least they had a real excuse to be seen together. She had given him the perfect opportunity to finally, officially call things off, and here he was still coming up with reasons to keep it going.
"Oh, I forgot I told Peggy, too."
"Peggy Marshall?"
"Yeah. She's my best friend. I figured I could trust her."
"So I guess the whole island knows, now."
"Oh, she's not that bad."
"Peggy Marshall knows about every dispute before I do. Hell, Hendricks should have deputized her, too. She'd know who's committed a crime before the crime was even committed."
Mira laughed, the fear and resentment finally gone from her eyes, and her expression settled into a more content smile. It pained him to know he could do that to her – be the source of both her crippling sadness and the cure to it too. As they made their way further out to sea, towards the awaiting beast, he had hope that they could find a way through this together – if they could take on the shark, they could take on anything.
I'd like to dedicate this piece to all the people who have fallen in love with people who didn't deserve it - who have given their time to those who were simply stringing them along. I have written this out of some of my own experiences – though I have mainly come at it from a male perspective – and I know how messy love can get. It makes you do some pretty stupid things.
Hope you all enjoyed reading and that ending wasn't too abrupt. I'll admit that I struggled to figure out where to cut it off. Anyway, let me know what you thought. Thanks for reading.