Author: Juliana

Title: Make this girl mine

Genre: humor, fluff

Rating: PG 13, some language

I knocked on her door and waited surprisingly patently for her to open it. It was the day before Christmas after all and I was pretending to feel the Christmas spirit. Well, to be honest, I did feel a bit Christmassy, but I'd die sooner than admit it.

"Hi, Bos, what are you doing here?" her surprised voice greeted me. Her face was glowing despite the dim hallway light and my breath caught in my throat. I didn't expect to be so affected by her mere presence in front of me. I mean, I'd seen the woman everyday for eight hours a day. Though her skill to physically subdue any skel and catch any bad guy she had set her mind on sometimes caused my mind to produce less than chaste thoughts. But I had never been so … charmed by the calm happiness in her eyes and a lingering smile on her lips. I must be losing it!

"Faith, hey. I thought I'd drop by to give you the presents for the kids."

She moved away from the door and I followed her into the living room.

"Why? Aren't you coming tomorrow to have dinner with us?"

"Sorry, I'm otherwise … engaged," I made a grimace.

"Oh, I see." Did I just imagine or did she really sound disappointed? I'd probably just imagined it I sighed mentally.

Only then did I notice her apron and hands covered in flour.

"Faith, are you baking cookies?" I asked enthusiastically.

"Yes, Bos, and they are not for you. You'd only get them if you came tomorrow but since you're not …" she let her voice trail off, certain I'd get the point.

"Aw, Faith, that's not fair! I don't get to have dinner with you guys AND I'm not allowed to taste your cookies," I whined. She pretended she hated it when I behaved like a child but I knew she loved chiding and scolding me. Hm, should I suggest her to spank me sometimes? Now, that would be something … Boscorelli, hold your horses. You just got here and your mind's already brimming with dirty thoughts.

"Chocolate chip?" I asked again, my mouth already watering at the thought of cookies. Or was it Faith? Wow, slow down, man! This is so not of the good here!

"Yup, chocolate chip," she grinned wickedly and turned towards the kitchen.

I placed the gifts on the coffee table and followed her. The whole kitchen was covered with signs of her being in a serious baking mood. Two jars of already baked cookies were on the table and the first thing she did when she saw me close on her heels was to cover the jars and put them on the counter as far away from me as possible. Like that could stop me!

"You know what, Faith, I've got an idea."

She turned to look at me. If I were to describe her expression in one word I would fail miserably. She seemed incredulous at the thought that I could have an idea, amused thinking it was certainly a stupid one, questioning at what could it be, and … was that a bit of fascination in her eyes when she looked at my handsome face? Guess not since she was still married to that jag-off Frederick. Still, even a married woman can sometimes delight herself in resting her tired eyes on a nice specimen of the male species, especially if she has to watch Fred the Baldy every day.

"You have an idea? I'm listening," she said amused and crossed her hands on her chest.

"Yeah, why is that so weird?" A bit of annoyance seeped into my voice. That was probably the reason why she didn't answer my question, though she seemed severely tempted.

"Anyway, I was thinking I could help you bake the cookies and in return you'd let me eat some." I flashed her my best always-gets-a-girl smile and prayed she'd accept. I was addicted to her cookies and she was bloody well aware of it. She was practically using them to blackmail me.

"Help me bake them? Are you out of your mind? I don't intend to spend the rest of my day cleaning up the mess you'd create," she laughed at me.

"You're hurting my feelings, Faith. I wouldn't make a mess, at least not so big a mess you'd need a whole day to clean it. You're very good at cleaning, I'm sure you'd manage …"

"No, Bos, I'm not letting you endanger our lives by trying to threaten the oven with your gun to bake faster or to try to knead the dough by throwing it at the wall or something."

"I wouldn't do that and you know it. You're just trying to make me sound like I'm totally incapable of doing anything besides being a cop. You're trying to make me feel bad about myself and that's not nice of you. Especially on almost-Christmas day."

I was hoping that by trying to make her feel bad about what she had just said she'd relent and let me help (well, eat the cookies, anyway).

"You're right," she said, her look softening. My inner self cheered so loudly I was afraid she'd hear it.

"You are totally incapable of doing anything besides being a cop," she finished matter of factly and added an extra malicious grin.

"Aw," I moaned, utterly defeated. This woman could crush me in mere seconds with only a bunch of well-targeted words.

I don't know what did it – my sad puppy dog eyes or slouched shoulders – but she finally allowed me to at least see the cookies from up close.

"You're getting one if you tell me why you can't come tomorrow."

That was a weird question coming from her. Why would she care anyway? Most of the time she was tenaciously insisting her life would be so much easier without me in it and that she couldn't care less about what I did outside work and now suddenly she wanted to know why I couldn't come to her dinner?

"Do you have a date or something?" I eyed her suspiciously when she tried to hide her strained voice with an obviously fake smile and lightheartedness.

"I would if I were like fifty and not related to her," I grinned.

"Oh, you're spending the day with your mom." Relief?

"Yeah, like always. This year she's invited some guests over to her house, though, and she's asked me if I could stay a bit longer to help her out."

Faith now gave me her genuine smile and I smiled back. Despite her dirty clothes and messed hair she seemed festive and happy. She had gotten two days off to spend them with her family. And of all the years this year I wasn't going to be there to see her with her two kids, satisfied when they'd be thrilled with the gifts they'd get, glowing with pride when she'd open the totally useless and shapeless presents the two of them had made for her, looking all soft and gentle without her uniform and the tough bitch stare on her, beaming when everyone would praise her cookies … Cookies? Back to the cookies.

"So, do I get a cookie now?" I asked hopefully.

"'Kay, just one." She smacked my arm when I tried to grab three out of the jar. I tried to look offended but as soon as I smelled that sweet, delicious smell I couldn't resist and I grinned from ear to ear.

The cookie practically melted at the first contact with my tongue. The incredibly good taste made me close my eyes. The crunchy taste of the dough was just slightly bitter but the more sticky chocolate chips tasted like heaven. I rolled them around my mouth, trying to completely suck the taste out of the mixture to enjoy it longer. It kept making my mouth water and when I finally swallowed it my tongue was already itching to taste another one.

I opened my eyes, disappointed that the party for the senses was over so soon. I was met with Faith's amused pools of hazel. I'd noticed many times before how her eyes became much lighter color when she was in a good mood and almost dark brown when she was angry or sad. I speculated by the grin she had barely managed to hide, they'd be yellow by now, if they could.

"With all that moaning I thought we were going to have a problem on our hands," she snickered.

I glared at her and at the same time tried to remember whether I actually moaned. Probably wouldn't be the first time when her cookies were involved.

"Instead of making fun of me you could give me another one."

"In exchange for what?"

"I dunno. Do I always have to do something to get a reward? Isn't it enough just being me?"

My sour face caused her to burst into hearty laugher. I couldn't help it but join in. Her laugh was contagious. I could never keep a straight face when she started to laugh no matter how pissed off I'd been before.

"You … want a reward … for being … you?" she barely got out in between fits of laughter.

I couldn't answer I just nodded.

Faith had to grab the table for support.

I was completely breathless when finally my urge to laugh subsided. I hadn't laughed so hard in months, specially not for such a stupid reason. But it felt good. That was what Faith always managed to do – make me feel good. That's why I loved her being my partner.

She wiped the tears in her eyes but the second she looked at me she started to giggle again. I'd never heard her giggle before. I watched her till she calmed down and came closer to where I was standing at the counter.

Just as I thought she couldn't be cuter with her red cheeks and bright eyes she did the cutest thing ever.

"You know what Bos, you deserve something better for being you." She leaned closer and I was certain she was going to make fun of me again with a very cruel joke when I suddenly felt her lips touch my cheek. Did she just kiss me? Did Faith kiss me? And I practically missed the moment fearing she'd play me again! Oh, what a jerk I was! I'd never get that moment back. I had the words already on the tip of my tongue to ask her to kiss me again but I stopped in time. Probably for the first time in my life.

Without a word and with a sweet smile she offered me the jar again. Tentatively I took two cookies but she didn't seem like she was going to kill me for it. I instantly regretted not taking the advantage of her good mood and take three.

While I munched on the first one and she moved around the kitchen to bake some more a thought occurred to me. Or was it more like a wish? Anyway, I decided that someday I was going to get a girl just like her and I'd marry her. A soft smile spread across my lips at the thought but then something started to bother me. Something wasn't quite right. At first I wasn't sure what it was but then I almost snorted loudly when I realized the absurdity of the thought. Someone just like her? Fat chance. There was no one like her, not like my Faith. Hmm… My Faith? Now that's a thought! I was going to make -this- girl mine. That sounds better, Boscorelli.

FIN