Disclaimer: I don't own it. Though I wouldn't turn Ranger away if he turned up on my doorstep.
Spoilers: I don't think so…
A/N: This isn't really a song-fic. It was inspired by the song Foundations by Kate Nash. I'll stick the lyrics at the end for anyone who's interested. This is NOT Joe friendly. You have been warned.
I took a sip of my disgustingly expensive champagne and wondered for the hundredth time how I'd gotten myself into this. I was standing in one of Trenton's finest ballrooms, dressed in a floor-length midnight-blue gown, and three-inch heels which were currently creating painful blisters on my heels. Every cop from the TPD, as well as every high level politico in Trenton was here, dancing and drinking and generally having a good time. I was not.
I was just wondering where my date had gotten to when he sidled up beside me and placed an arm around my waist.
"How you doing, cupcake?"
I pulled away from him slightly and turned to stare up at him beseechingly.
"Can we go now, Joe?"
He looked at me as if I'd suggested they cancel the World Series this year.
"Cupcake, we just got here. We haven't even danced yet. Besides, there are so many people I want you to meet."
I rolled my eyes. I knew just about every person in the room, had gone to school with a good number of them. I don't know who Joe was trying to kid, he just wanted to stick around and schmooze for awhile longer. Why the hell had I let him drag me to this?
"Morelli," I heard someone yell from halfway across the hall. Bill Yankovich, a TPD detective who'd worked closely with Joe on a couple of assignments, came into view dragging a harried looking redhead behind him.
"Bill," Joe said, clapping the other man on the shoulder as soon as he was close enough.
"I heard you pulled the Moric case, how's that going?"
Bill was clearly half a beer away from wasted. I wondered how he'd managed it so quickly; the ball had only been in swing for about an hour now.
"Oh, you know, same old, same old. Crime scene guys screwing up the chain of evidence, witnesses changing their stories." Joe shrugged like it was just another day at the office.
"Nice police work, officer," I muttered under my breath.
"What was that?" Joe leaned close, a half-smile on his face as if I were about to divulge a tantalizing secret.
"Oh, nothing, honey."
He cocked an eyebrow, then turned back to Bill.
"Bill, you've met my fiancé Stephanie, right?"
"Girlfriend," I corrected. "See, no ring." I held up my left hand for inspection.
Bill laughed uproariously. Drunk, definitely drunk.
His girlfriend looked understanding, as if she were sitting around waiting for a rock on her finger, too. I almost laughed.
"Only because she refuses to wear it," Morelli muttered.
It wasn't just the ring I was refusing.
"You don't want this one, Steph?" Bill asked with a chuckle. "I can't imagine why."
"Neither can I," I heard Bill's girl mutter. I got the impression that it wasn't necessarily Bill's rock she was waiting for. Maybe any old rock would do.
"He's all yours," I told her.
"Cupcake," Joe said warningly. He leaned closer to me on the pretense of planting a kiss on my cheek and whispered, "Could you stop being such a bitch?"
"I don't know," I asked aloud. "Could you stop eyeing Teri Gilman like she's a nice juicy steak?"
He stared at me, eyes wide, mouth wider while Bill laughed like a hyena and the redhead gave me a death glare, her eyes asking, 'how dare you insult such a fine specimen of manhood?'
Well, I had news for her, Morelli was about the worst example of manhood I could imagine at the moment. Granted his manhood was in perfect order, but that was about the only part of him I could compliment.
"Honey, why don't we go see what they've got on the buffet?" Bill asked his date, shooting one last pitying look in Morelli's direction before steering her away.
Joe turned back to me, his eyes narrowed, his mouth set in a line. It was a look he wore often, and it was usually followed by a very Italian blowup.
"What the hell was that, Stephanie?"
"I'm sorry, Joe," I told him in my best placating voice, "I don't know what got into me."
He shook his head in a self-pitying way that almost screamed 'why me?' and led me over to the bar.
"A beer and…" he turned to me, "another champagne?"
I placed my half-empty flute on the bar.
"A margarita."
Carl Costanza and his wife joined us just as the bartender set down our drinks.
"Hey, Steph," Carl said. "How's it going?"
"Very well," I lied. "And you?"
"Oh, we're good," he smiled. "Hey, I heard you brought Johnny Lemings in the other day and he was buck naked." He gave a short barking laugh.
Great. I had been lucky enough to avoid stories of my escapades all evening, until now.
"Well, you know how crazy my skips can be," I said lightly.
"How'd he end up naked?" Carl asked around a gulp of beer.
"Well, he was wearing boxers and a wife beater when I showed up, but…"
"I'm sure Carl and Linda don't really want to hear about your dumb-ass job, cupcake."
Linda's eyes widened just as Carl started, "Morelli, really…"
"Oh, it's okay, Carl," I said. "Joe's entitled to his opinions." I turned back to Joe and treated him to my sweetest smile. "Thank you for your input, darling. Now, why don't you just have another beer while we talk."
Joe's face turned redder than Linda Costanza's dress, but I turned away from him and started back in on the embarrassing story of my capture of Johnny Lemings the week before.
I was only acting like this to annoy Joe, and I think he knew it. Our fighting had taken on a new consistency lately. It was like a day didn't go by that we didn't find something to argue about. He'd yell and I'd yell back. He'd get in my personal space and I'd wonder which time would be the one he'd finally follow his heritage as a Morelli man. I have to admit, he scared me a bit some of those times. But he never hit me, and so I kept pushing because no matter how horrible it was, I got a thrill just winding him up. I'd known the end was coming for awhile now, and I just couldn't bring myself to care. Or to do anything about it.
Joe had been a constant in my life for so long that I wasn't sure I could let go of him. What would happen when we were no longer together? Would I end up old and alone? Would it hurt to see him around town with some new bimbo on his arm? Or worse yet, with Teri Gilman on his arm?
I didn't have long to wonder, because even as I was thinking it, Joe was moving away from me, eyes intent on something across the room. I followed his gaze right to the devil in question. She was stunning in her long black gown. Her hair was piled in manufactured tendrils on top of her head, jeweled pins adorning it every few inches. Her smile was guarded as he approached her.
I felt a surprising lack of emotion as he took her hand in his and tugged her onto the dance floor. Her eyes swung around and met mine just before her arms snaked around his neck. I'm pretty sure I smiled.
The darling couple spun and Joe's brown gaze clashed with mine. His eyes were dark and stormy, and I'm pretty sure my smile didn't help. If he was doing this to hurt me, I hated to tell him that it was in vain. I watched them for one last moment, my heart light in my chest. This was it, it was over. The end. No argument, no public blowup, not even a conversation. He'd taken that last step and I was more than willing to let him go. I turned and walked out of the ballroom.
I retrieved my coat and handbag from the coat-check and headed out to the foyer. My cell phone was in my hand before I could think about it, and dialing speed dial one.
"Yo," came the reply and I felt my heart thump in my chest.
"Can you come get me?" I asked breathlessly.
"You okay?"
"Mmmhmmm, I'm good. Just…come get me, okay?"
"Policeman's ball?"
I didn't even wonder how he knew. "Yeah."
"Be there in ten."
I closed my phone and leaned back against the foyer wall with a sigh. Maybe not the end, I thought. Maybe a new beginning.
Foundations- by Kate Nash
Thursday night, everything's fine, except you've got that look in your eye
When I'm telling a story and you find it boring,
You're thinking of something to say.
You'll go along with it then drop it and humiliate me in front of our friends.
Then I'll use that voice that you find annoyin' and say something like
"Yeah, intelligent input, darlin', why don't you just have another beer then?"
Then you'll call me a bitch
and everyone we're with will be embarrassed
and I won't give a shit.
My fingertips are holding onto the cracks in our foundation,
and I know that I should let go, but I can't.
And every time we fight I know it's not right,
every time that you're upset and I smile,
I know I should forget, but I can't.
You said I must eat so many lemons 'cause I am so bitter.
I said, "I'd rather be with your friends mate 'cause they are much fitter."
Yes, it was childish and you got aggressive,
and I must admit that I was a bit scared,
but it gives me thrills to wind you up.
My fingertips are holding on to the cracks in our foundation,
and I know that I should let go, but I can't.
And every time we fight I know it's not right,
every time that you're upset and I smile,
I know I should forget, but I can't.
Your face is pasty 'cause you've gone and got so wasted, what a surprise.
Don't want to look at your face 'cause it's makin' me sick.
You've gone and got sick on my trainers,
I only got these yesterday.
Oh, my gosh, I cannot be bothered with this.
Well, I'll leave you there 'till the mornin',
and I purposely won't turn the heating on
and dear God, I hope I'm not stuck with this one.
My fingertips are holding onto the cracks in our foundation,
and I know that I should let go, but I can't.
And every time we fight I know it's not right,
every time that you're upset and I smile,
I know I should forget, but I can't.
And every time we fight I know it's not right,
every time that you're upset and I smile.
I know I should forget, but I can't. 2x
A/N: Don't forget to let me know what you thought!
