This story uses a non-canon scene from my story First Impressions where I have Chris and Rita meeting for the first time as children.

My Chris

Rita Lee Lance sighed tiredly and tried to find a comfortable position on her couch. She was exhausted, her feet hurt, and she still smelled like cheap perfume and cigarette smoke. Her undercover operation with Detective Michael Price was going well, although she still found it hard to tolerate his arrogance. He was so unlike her Chris. 'My Chris?' she thought to herself. Since when had he become 'hers', she wondered. She sighed again as she tried to massage her aching feet. She wished Chris was there to do it for her, rather than 1,431 miles north in Boston, with Jillian. She cursed herself. It was her fault he was there, and if he didn't come back, she'd lose everything. She remembered their conversation from just two days ago.

George Donovan and the Captain told her that she'd be paired up with Michael Price on a narco investigation. Price was from Chicago and in Palm Beach as part of a police officer exchange program. He already had a sorted reputation in the department and he was, as Chris put it, a cross between Serpico and Dirty Harry, or at least in his mind. Chris told her to just say no. Her reply, although truthful, hadn't told the whole story, but at the time it was the only thing she as willing to admit to.

"And what, give a up a chance to work with Batman? Besides, I think you and I could use a break." Rita never thought she'd utter the phrase "we need a break" to Chris, but she did.

"What do you mean by that," Chris asked the worry and guilt clear on his face.

"Think about it, you've been a bear since Jillian moved to Boston and it's getting worse. I'll see you later."

Later ended up being that evening as he'd arrived at her apartment uninvited, but bearing gifts of brownies, the chocolate ice cream she adored, and a grin that always melted her heart. He noted that she was in her bathrobe, and clearly getting ready to go out on the town. He reminded her of a prior movie date with him, but she couldn't recall anything of the kind, and he finally admitted that the food was a peace offering and that he was sorry for being so attitudinal recently. She'd taken a brownie gratefully and his grin of pleasure made her heart melt again. She'd gone back to her room to continue getting ready; she knew she had to put some distance between them and focus on her mission.

As she applied her make-up, she'd continued to prod him about calling Jillian and he'd prodded her back about her ex-boyfriend Eric. Unbeknownst to her, as they bantered back and forth, Michael Price had arrived to pick her up. Chris preceded to play 20 questions with her about Price. When she'd finally come down, and noticed Price with Chris, her face went as red as her party dress. She'd grabbed her partner roughly by the shirt and ordered him to lock up when he left. As she moved out the door, she noticed Chris step up to Price and whisper to him. She didn't hear what they said, but she assumed Chris was either warning Price off her, or warning him to take care of her and likely a little bit of both. When she'd returned later that night she'd invited Price in for a cup of coffee, only to find Chris sleeping on her couch. Her emotions moved between happiness, embarrassment, annoyance, and finally landing on frustration. The next morning she'd accused him of acting like a jealous boyfriend and encouraged him to visit Jillian. He'd agreed to go, but other than a brief message saying he'd arrived in Boston, she hadn't heard from him again, and her paranoia was whispering to her. 'What if he stays in Boston?'

Rita brought her mind back to the present and finally fell asleep, but her tired mind brought forth a painful memory from her childhood.

"My dad's coming today to pick me up! I'm leaving Rita," a nine year old Chris Lorenzo said to the girl who, after only a week, had become his best friend ever.

Rita felt as if she'd been plunged into cold water. "When-when will you be coming back?"

Chris shook his head sadly, "I don't know."

Rita looked away, tears began to flood her eyes, tears she'd not shed for so long. But now they fell and she couldn't stop them-didn't want to. Her friend was being taken away from her-her Chris.

"It-it's OK Rita. Don't cry, please!" Chris pleaded.

Rita fiercely brushed away her tears. She turned to look at Chris and he impulsively kissed her full on the lips. His face turned bright red and Rita smiled and giggled at him.

The next day Rita tried to push any thoughts of losing Chris out of her mind, but the Captain brought them thundering back as he asked if she'd heard from Chris and when she'd replied that no, she hadn't, and that she thought that was a good sign. Harry asked incredulously if she seriously saw Chris and Jillian together. They were from different worlds, he argued. She refused to agree with the Captain openly, but her heart agreed 100% with Harry, and cried: Come back to me Chris.

That night, Rita stalked after their main suspect and goading him as he walked toward his car. With a final hateful glare at Rita, he turned the ignition and the car exploded into a ball of fire. The force of the explosion tossed Rita back and her last conscious thoughts were of Chris.

Rita sat in an ambulance, trying to regain her composure. She'd been lucky, any closer to the explosion and she may have been seriously hurt. Except for a few bumps and bruises she'd be fine. She heard someone running toward her, and suddenly, she found herself in the arms of her partner. "Are you OK Sam?" He asked, his voice thick with emotion. She'd not replied but simply clung to him and felt his strong body support her. She wanted to melt in to him, to stay in his arms forever. Something had shifted with in her, and she sensed in Chris, too. He was hers. Had always been hers and now she'd make sure he never left her again.