SummeryThings aren't always what they seem...

Disclaimer: TW doesn't belong to me. Ah phooey!

A/N: Let's say that Cruz spent about two weeks in jail. Let's also say that she was removed from solitary confinement.

"Not so tough now are you? Huh pig?"

A barely coherent voice demanded tauntingly above her. She could hardly make out the face, as she lay sprawled on the cold, uneven cement floor. So cold.

" Get up pig!" The voice ordered. She tried, but her legs wouldn't cooperate. She slumped again to the floor. Another hard kick connected with her already sore abdomen," I said get up!"

" I'm here for one of your prisoners," A man showed his badge and said at the front of the prison," She's being released."

" Name," One of the guards asked in monotone.

"Maritza Cruz," The man replied.

" Cruz, Cruz," The guard skimmed through a list attached to the clipboard they held," She's in the rec. room. You can go and get her yourself, if you want. Just check in Mister."

" Oh, I want," The man muttered under his breath, then removed his gun from his holster," Here," He stuck it in the drawer.

" Sign here," The guard pushed another clipboard at him through a small hole in the Plexiglas separating the guards' station from the rest of the front room of the prison.

The man scribbled his name quickly on the line provided," There you go," He shoved the clipboard through the hole to the guard. A buzzer rang, and the large, barred gate swung open. He stepped through, and closed it behind him.

" Follow me," Another guard motioned for him to follow them. They led him down a narrow corridor, which he noticed was increasingly chilly. Poor Ritza, he thought, of all the things to get mixed up into.

" Here we are," The guard opened a door to expose a large-ish room, with tables and chairs lining the place. A small TV set sat in one corner. But what was happening in another corner interested the stranger more.

" Leave her alone," He ordered in a menacing voice," Now!"

There was a group of about three inmates gathered around another woman lying on the floor. The inmates around her, one in particular, had been kicking her.

The inmates looked back at him, and the one who had been kicking, snarled back," Says who?"

The woman on the floor managed to lift her head, and what she saw astonished her,

" Bosco?" She gasped," Is it really you?"

As soon as he heard her voice, weak and painful, Bosco surged toward her," Hey Ritza, it's me."

" But you were," She stopped here to take a shaky breath," You were shot. I saw you."

" I'm all right honey," Bosco crouched down beside her, and took her hand," I'm right here. Come on. Let's go."

" Where?" She allowed him to pull her to her feet, but she leaned heavily against him. He put his arm around her and held her against him.

" We're going home," Bosco explained," You're being released."

" Why's she getting released? The little," One of the ones who had only been an observer cursed under her breath.

Ignoring the inmates, Bosco spoke directly to Maritza. He spoke gently, and right into her ear," Come on. Let's go."

Nodding against his side, she let him lead her out of the room, and down the hall. Shivering she whispered,

" Cold so cold."

" We'll get you warmed up, I promise," He whispered back. When they approached the guard station, he sat her on a bench right beside it," I've just got to get my gun and sign out. Sit still."

She did as she was told. Was it really him? Could it really be him?

Lifting her from the bench, Bosco decided carrying her would be easier than making her walk. She looked so sore. First stop hospital, he also decided.

A guard held the door open for him.

" Thanks," He said to them as he stepped out. Walking carefully so as not to jolt her, he made his way to his car. She cuddled to him, and shivered.

He bent slightly, and opened the car door. Settling her inside, he closed the door, and jogged around to the other side, opened the driver's side door, and got in. She was shivering hard now, and whimpering quietly. Bosco realized that the movement was probably hurting her ribs, which were probably bruised, if not cracked.

" Where are we going?" She asked in a whisper.

" I'm taking you to a hospital," He replied, then reached over and patted her knee," How're you feeling?"

" I'm ok-ay," Maritza coughed as she spoke. He looked her over at the red light. There were bruises speckling her face, and she was holding her stomach.

" Did they beat you often?" He asked quietly. He was silent for a moment, waiting for her answer.

Maritza didn't answer. She just shivered and moaned as the movement shook her ribs.

Shaking his head, Bosco clenched his hands on the steering wheel. Cops weren't safe in a prison. Any judge would have, should have, known that. Cops weren't safe there.

Pulling into the hospital parking lot, he stopped the car and deposited the keys in his pocket. Glancing over at Maritza, he said," We're here."

He got out and went over to the passenger door. He opened it, and lifted her gently out. Closing the door with his foot, he carried her into the hospital outpatient's entrance.

Settling her on a chair, he went to the front desk," Hey."

A nurse looked up and smiled at him," Hey, do you need help?"

" That woman over there," He motioned to where Maritza was curled in a small hospital chair," Was beat up. " Bosco showed his badge," She's a cop too. But I think she has bruised ribs. Who knows what else."

" All right Officer," The nurse spoke in a soothing tone," Let's get your friend into an exam room. Follow me."

The nurse led them to Exam Three. Bosco helped Maritza settle on the paper-sheeted bed. The nurse took a paper gown from a closet, and handed to Maritza,

" Here honey," The nurse instructed," You just put this on, and the doctor will be here in just a second."

" Okay," Maritza nodded uncertainly, her eyes not leaving Bosco's face," Can he stay with me?"

" I'm not going any where Ritza," Bosco was standing at the end of the bed, with his arms crossed, looking like a sentinel, watching over her, " I'm right here."

The nurse gave him a curious look," Are you sure you don't want a girl in here with you honey?"

" No," Maritza insisted," Him. Please."

" If that's what you want," The nurse agreed slowly, though still looking a bit confused" The doctor will be here in a moment."

Maritza struggled with putting the thin paper gown on. Bosco let her do it on her own for as long as he could stand. She had managed to pull her orange coveralls down to her waist, and had the paper gown over her head. Bosco helped her put her arms in the sleeve holes, and rid her off the ugly prison garb. He did the back of the gown up for her.

When the doctor entered the room, Bosco regained his pose at the foot of the bed, and looked all the part of a protective boyfriend, or husband. The latter was what the doctor mistook him for.

The doctor's name was Dr. Brown. After what looked to be a painful exam for Maritza, Dr Brown pulled Bosco to the side,

" Officer Boscorelli, your wife's ribs are very bruised."

Bosco noticed the 'your wife', and decided to let it slip," What can we do for her?"

" We can give her some meds for the pain, and I want to wrap her ribs. While I'd like to keep her, I can see no reason to insist that she stay overnight. I want you to keep a close eye on her. Keep her comfortable. She also looks as if she's sustained some emotional distress as well. I'm merely warning you that she could be very emotional over the next few days," Dr Brown explained," Be careful so as not to bump her."

" Your wife is very cold, and she has a bit of a cough. That may irate her ribs, but if it gets too bad, bring her back in."

" Thank-you," Bosco nodded.

" No problem," Dr Brown patted his shoulder, and left the room. Bosco sighed. She really looked sore.

" Hey Ritza," He took her hand, and rubbed it between his," I'm taking you home with me. Okay?"

" Why can't I go home by myself?" She asked, and then coughed.

Sore and sick, and she still wants to be on her own, Bosco thought.

" Because, you're going home with me baby," He rubbed her other hand with his to warm it.

Maritza couldn't believe it. Was she really looking into Bosco's blue eyes, or was she imagining it? Was she just dreaming, and she was going to wake up and have to face the other prisoners soon? He had been shot; she had seen him with her own two eyes. His blood was everywhere. His face had been severely cut up. All she could see on his face now were a few scars on his right cheek. They were mostly healed.

" I don't have any clothes," Was what she finally managed to say.

Producing a plastic bag, he passed it to her. Inside was her clothes, the clothes she had been arrested in.