A/N: Here we goooo! Hope you guy's enjoy this one.
I struggled a little with this one but hopefully it doesn't show much.

Disclaimer: I own nothing BDS.

"My memory refused
To separate the lies from truth
And search the past my mind created

I kept on pushing through
Standing resolute, which you
In equal measure loved and hated

You take me by the hand
I'm seeing who I am

Teach me how to fight
I'll show you how to win
You're my mortal flaw
And I'm your fatal sin
Let me feel the sting, the pain, the burn under my skin

Put me to the test
I'll prove that I am strong

Won't let myself believe that what we feel is wrong
I finally see what you knew was inside me all along

That behind this soft exterior...lies a warrior."

Chapter 2: Warrior

7 Months Later

My neck was sweaty, my palms ready to be out of my gloves. My dress blues were driving me crazy. I took a deep breath and looked down from the platform the summer rotation was standing on. I licked my lips, focusing on staying still in parade rest. I watched as those ahead of me got called to receive their certificates and pins. Family members and friends cheered. My eyes scanned the crowd from underneath my hat. Then sure enough, I seen my Mother wave. I grinned and almost wanted to cry when she pointed to the gray haired man beside her. Doc had made it! I had sent him an invitation but wasn't sure he'd make the flight. I bit my lip, anxiously waiting for my name to be called. Where my last name started with a D, it didn't take very long.

"Officer Amelia Doyle."

Sgt. Donahue called my name. I felt my heart pound and I stepped forward. I turned on my heel and strode over to the uniformed man. Sgt. Donahue was probably the best self defense and combatatives teacher this side of the Mississippi. I heard my mother and Doc hollering for me, many others clapping. My head was held high as Sgt's usually stern brown eyes seemed warm. He saluted me, which I returned and he placed a pin on my uniform. "Congratulations Officer Doyle. Did damn fine." His voice lowered to tell me. I dropped my hand and nodded, accepting my certificate. My eyes briefly misted over as I went back to my previous spot in formation. I spotted Mom and Doc again, she of course was dabbing her eyes and Doc too seemed a bit emotional.

I smiled once more, feeling the best I have in year. I had needed this for myself. After all the struggles and hard work I am now going to be able to give back to the world. I blinked and didn't wipe the one tear from my cheek. I had done this. Wasn't going to be someone's victim anymore. All me. No...'Saint's' watching my back. I had this shit. I swallowed the lump in my throat when I thought of my father. His bright blue eyes would be watery, his grin would be priceless and he'd be fumbling with that damn fedora hat he adored. As if his memory summoned his spirit, I felt him there with me. That familiar warmth. My heart swelled, I know Dad. I really did do good. I could practically hear his 'I love you's'. I let out a shaky breath and the man next to me bumped me with his elbow.

I flushed, sheepish of my momentary sentiments. I cast a side glance, and seen Johnson had the same look in his eyes. He was older than I by a few years, 25 to my 19. But he was a great guy. I nodded and got myself together quickly. I just wanted this to be over with, wanted to hug Doc and crack into that bottle of Jameson Mom had promised was waiting for me at the house. I had been dormed here for the past 6 months and was ready to go home for a week. I still had to put in for a spot with Roane County PD. But I was pretty confidant with my ability to find a job there, I had the second best report of this class.

An hour later we were released to our families and friends. I took my cap off, tucking it neatly between my arm and side. I was scanning the crowd for my people, my lip was sore by now where I had chewed it so much. Then out of thin air I was attacked with a massive hug. Mom was still in tears as she blubbered into my hair. I laughed, reaching for Doc's hand and pulled him in too. Mom let go and I gave the old man a warm welcome. His faded blue eyes were red with evidence of his emotion.

"Lass!" He let out, patting my back before pulling away. I gave out an exasperated sigh before hugging him tightly again. "Ye look good! Ne'vr t'ot te uniform would be so fitting on ye!" I let go of him once more and shrugged.

"It's different. I like it though." I did indeed. I had bled, sweat and teared for this uniform. I swore an oath to this uniform. Seeing Doc's face was a balm to the soul. I knew I had missed him, but I hadn't realized how much until seeing him now. "When did you get in?" I asked, looking to Mom and back to him. Mom grinned and patted him on the shoulder.

"He came in on the red eye. Picked him up at Yeager and took him to breakfast, showed him around. Don't worry, he got himself a nap." Over the past few months she too has gotten close to him via phone. Doc was like a father to us both.

"Aye, t'is a beautiful place. Not nearly as big as Boston, but nice. Love te mountains." He added.

"Yessir, now I know y'all heard about the banquet but honestly, I just wanna go home. That bottle of Jameson is callin' my name." I had seen enough of this for right now, I just wanted to change and get into my jeans. Kind of expected Mom to be disappointed but she shrugged and motioned towards the exit.

"Fine by me, got a roast in the crock pot anyways. Should be done by the time we get home." That was the awesome news.

"Hell yes, to home!" I announced dramatically, winding my arms with Doc's and leading the way.


One Year Later

"Roane County control, this is unit 182. The scene is 10-48. Will be in route back to station." I keyed down the radio, setting it down. I sighed, today had been a long day and it was far from being over. "What a shit day." I said in a low voice, wishing it would pick up or something. My partner, Tristan Sommerfeld, nodded and sighed too.

"No shit, been drivin' around all fuckin' day without much of anything happenin'." Tristan was a good guy, a bit self envolved but he was a good cop. He had a son and was too young to be divorced, looked even younger. He was 31 and had been on the job for 11 years. The captain paired me with him, wanting to get his newest and bright eyed officer a great partner to show her how to get the job done. Also, the recommendation letter from Smecker hadn't hurt, either. But I hadn't known about it. I had only called Smecker to touch base and let him know about my career choice. I was aiming for detective to get out of the black uniform, and I guess Smecker's letter put me on the fast track to it. Next month I would be bumped up and I would go up a floor in the department.

"Can't wait till next month." I grumbled as he drove, popping his gum. "I will be happy to be rid of this belt." I patted the heavy 'utility belt' as I called it. I felt like I should scream go go gadget when I wore it. Sommerfeld chuckled, stopping st a red light.

"Yeah yeah, rub it in my face kid." I snorted and adjusted my sun glasses.

"Oh fuck you, if you wanted to move into investigations you could have by now. You're a damn fine officer. You know this." It was all true, Sommerfeld had a reputation. He was a pit bull and he always got his guy. The man grinned and reached across the laptop between us and punched my arm.

"I dunno, I like beating pavement every day. Just like it to be more excitin' is all." Speak of the devil and he shall appear.

"All available units, we have a 10 & 12 at the Lee Street Bar and Grill." We went into action, grins on our faces. No, we shouldn't be grinning right now. But...fuck it. You have to find a reason to smile. Sommerfeld flicked the sirens and lights on, whipping a U-ey and heading towards the hot spot in this town.

"10-4, Unit 182 in route. ETA is 2 minuets." I replied to Roane County Control. I keyed down and shot a look to Sommerfeld. "Damn you. I was thinkin' about some tea and a nice burger." My partner laughed and sped up.

"Ain't good for your girlish figure, Doyle." He teased me, adjusting his radio on his shoulder. I took a minuet to appraise him. Tristan was handsome in a odd way. Prominent masculine features but his nose was crooked from being broken too many times. He had a buzz cut, but the grays were poking out on the sides. It had it's only sexy appeal to it.

"Hey, I am a sexy bitch. I don't need to worry about my figure when I'm always runnin' these assholes down when your old dick can't keep up with 'em." I shot back. He shook his head and we rounded another corner. I checked to make sure my Smith and Wesson .40 was ready to go. Tristan barked out a laugh.

"Jesus, Doyle. You have a dirty mouth." He motioned ahead of us. "We're here." I hollered to control that we were on scene. My heart was starting to pound and the adrenaline was kicking in.

"Not the only dirty thing about me, old man." I added before drawing my gun and opening the door. I hunkered down and spotted the drunk man in his truck with the gun in his hand. Well, shit. Sommerfeld called in to the incoming units what we'd rolled up on. We had two other cars coming in from a wreck on the interstate, it would be a minuet.

"Later I will make some very obscene and inappropriate comments, taking comfort in the fact you won't file a sexual harassment case against me..." I nodded his way signaling I was following him closer to the truck. "But for right now, let's get this done with...SIR! DROP THE GUN AND PUT YOUR HANDS UP!"

Hours later we were back at the station and I was finishing up my reports for all the days excitement...which wasn't very much. A few speeding tickets, parking violation and that drunk guy. My eyes hurt from staring at the computer screen and filling out the forms for physical copies. I had nursed enough coffee to wear me out. I groaned and kicked my feet against the carpet of the office. I rolled backwards and crashed into the back of Sommerfeld's chair. He grunted and turned to me, slight annoyance in his eyes.

"So here in an hour we will be off duty for the WHOLE weekend. What are we goin' to do after work? Drinks? Soliciting hookers? Pretend we're the Super Troopers..." My exhausted voice but hopeful look in my eyes was always my partner's undoing. Tristan rubbed his eyes and looked at his wrist watch. He made a face and shrugged, studying me.

"We're gonna get tattoos." I rolled my eyes and laughed. I let it draw out for a minuet before I realized he was dead serious.

"Wait, you're not fuckin' with me are you? You're serious?" Sommerfeld smiled and held up his fist for me to pound with mine. I smiled back and we 'blew it up'.

"Fuckin' A, girl. Missed your birthday last weekend so I figured this will make a good last hoorah for us as partners and a late birthday gift." I nodded and was truely touched, letting the silent feels of camaraderie flow between us. I wasn't his first partner, but he was mine. There was a certain level of expectation of your first partner. They had to show you how things worked and prepare you for the worst and best days on the job. I'd had the best one. When our eyes lingered a little too longer on each other's, I cleared my throat and felt my cheeks blush.

"What we gonna get, tramp stamps or matching dolphins?" I teased, lightening the mood. Sommerfeld flipped me off and pointed to my desk.

"Git yer ass back to work." He paused and then decided to continue. "Get somethin' that means the world to you. All cop's need a tattoo." I gave him a thumbs up and wheeled back to my desk, wracking my brain about what I wanted to get.

I always liked tattoos...and for a short time they had liked me too. Carefully I cracked my neck and leaned back, allowing myself to dredge up some flashes of some memories that I was trying to make peace with. Expanses of skin inked with Celtic crosses, Latin words and Holy Mary's. Smooth and warm, always smelling like cigarettes and day old cologne. I looked to the skin on my arms, remembering the way it had been adorned with kisses and praised for being so unmarked. My fist's tightened. Fuck yes, I was getting a tattoo.

Sure enough, midnight rolled around and we were in Charleston getting inked up. I had decided on my family crest. I was proud of my last name, proud of my roots despite my slight aversion to some of the Irish things. I expected a snappy comment from Sommerfeld, but he just nodded and watched as they laid the needles to the skin on my right shoulder-blade. It took almost two hours to get it all done in one go, but it was okay. I only winced a few times, whereas Tristan almost came up off his chair a few times as they tattooed the Lord's Prayer to his rib cage. It looked good on him when they were done, like I said before...Tristan did not look 31. He was in top shape.

When the tattooist smeared some cream on his and wrapped him up, we hit up an all night diner in town for some breakfast. I had long since changed into my jeans and typical white muscle shirt. He was similar, but he preferred the long-sleeved dark cotton shirts. We talked about funny stories from the past year together, the past before joining the force and other random things. I just never had much to say about 'before'. And he'd noticed too. When the waitress brought out our plates, Somerfield pushed his sleeves up and grabbed a forkful.

"How come ya never talk much about your past, kid?" I shrugged, taking a huge mouthful of hash browns and runny eggs.

"I dunno. Not much to say, really. Was still'a youngin." I lied smoothly. His speculative brown eyes studied me as he always did when he brought up the subject.

"As always, I call bullshit." He put his napkin down for a moment and sat back in the booth, crossing his arms. I rolled my eyes and mimicked him.

"Why does it matter? Nothin' I can do about the past, Sommerfeld. Why ya wanna know so god damn bad for anyways?" I sounded defensive, but he wasn't backing down this time. Unfortunately.

"Cause, I've been workin with ya and you know all about me! All about me." He winked and I pretended to gag. "I dunno, I mean we know you at the department...but I just thought I'd know ya a lil' fuckin' better by now. You've got skeletons, I can tell by the way you look at things. You react weird too. You don't break out in a sweat like a normal newbie would." I watched my fork push the mess of ketchup and yolk around on my plate. "Do you not trust me, Amelia?" I snorted and met his eyes, pushing the fly aways from my pony tail out of my face.

"You had to fuckin' use my name." I groaned. I took a quick sip of coffee and wiped my mouth. He was staring me down. Damn it. "Alright alright, I'll tell you a little." The older man lit up like a Christmas tree. I sighed and cracked my knuckles.

"I'm from here, but I spent a while in Boston, two years ago. There had been a lot of shit goin' on. My dad was killed, the guy who did it had been a seriously bad sonuvabitch..." I paused, seeing if any of this was ringing any bells. "He was a mobster, ended up get executed in the courtroom.." As soon as the words left my mouth, Tristan's eyes went wide and he pointed at me as he then shook his head.

"No fuckin' way! I remember seein' that shit on the news! What was that guy's name? Uhh.."

"Yakavetta." He snapped his fingers and nodded.

"Yep. Shit! You were there? You seen him get shot?" I nodded, not really wanting to diverge too many details, already regretting opening my mouth. We were 'bonding' and I was a sucker for Tristan sometimes.

"Yeah, was somethin' else. Fucker had it comin." I stated flatly, rubbing my nose and feeling my shoulder's tense. Silence fell between us and he took a few more bites of his food. I suddenly didn't feel like eating anything else. Memories of Yakavetta's face filled my brain. That fear, the defeat, the blood. Even now it made me tingle in satisfaction. My eye twitched and thunder rolled through my ears for a moment. My hairs stood on end.

"Sorry about your dad, girl. But I think those 'Saint's' or whatever they were called had the right idea. Need more folks like that." His voice was serious. I met his eyes and he was sincere. "Glad you got to see him brought down, as fucked up as it sounds." Despite myself, I let out a laugh. I found the strength to smile.

"Me too, man. Me too."

**Beth Crowley - Warrior**