Title: I'll Be Your Safety
Fandom: Life
Pairing: Charlie Crews/Dani Reese, minor Reese/Tidwell in a couple of chapters
Rating: T
Word Count: 2,694/?
Warnings: violence, occasional bad language, discussion of alcoholism, drug addiction. Title taken from "Kiss Me" by Ed Sheeran (which I obviously don't own).
Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognise from the show. If I did, it would still be going and Dani and Charlie would be married by now, or at least making out on a regular basis.
Synopsis: "If you say 'you don't have to understand here to be here' I swear, I'll shoot you." She says. Her mask of annoyance and irritation is betrayed by the slight upwards quirk of her lips. He wordlessly tugs back the sheets on the other side of the bed with a careful expression on his face. "I can't sleep either."
A/N: Some more on Charlie's tattoos, but the meanings behind most of them will be explained in a different chapter. Charlie's Zen comment about speech and silence is a quote by Chinese Chan master I-tuan (9th century), a disciple of Nan-ch'uan (at least, that's what the internet machine told me). This chapter doesn't contain the whole interviews, I'll be expanding on what happens in there later.
"Internal Affairs Departmental Interview 4471. Currently present is Detectives Danielle Reese and Charles Crews , Attorney for Detective Crews, George Thompson and interviewing IAD Officers, Lieutenant Michaels and Sergeant Forsythe." Michaels sets the tape recorder down on the table between them and shuffles through the papers in front of him before looking up at Dani and Charlie over the conference room table, "You've both been interviewed separately already this morning, now we just want to make sure those stories match."
"Why wouldn't they match?" Dani says sharply, disliking what Michaels is implying, "You think one of us is lying?"
Everyone in the room knows that by 'one of us' she means Charlie.
"Maybe they think we'll be able to jog each other's memories about what happened." Charlie suggests cheerfully, swivelling his chair to look at her.
"I can't see how that would work, I was tied up in a room with Roman and his cronies the entire time!" Dani protests, folding her arms across her chest.
"That's true," Charlie says to Michaels and Forsythe as if he's just remembered the fact, "She's was."
"Can we get back on topic sometime soon please, would that work for everyone?" Forsythe, a sharp faced middle aged woman with eyes that say I don't even love my own mother, suggests, looking up from the file she'd been flicking through.
"Works for me." Charlie replies with a shrug, looking over at Dani inquisitorially. Dani wonders if he was like this during his solo interview with them earlier. He was probably worse, truth be told. The thought makes her smile, so she nods too, "me too." She tells them.
She hears Charlie's lawyer sigh next to her (he'd ended up sat between them), and she bets he's wondering if he's going to have to deal with both of them being smart asses to the rat squad for the entire interview.
"Internal Affairs Departmental Interview 4469. Currently present is Detective Danielle Reese and interviewing IAD Officer, Lieutenant Michaels. First of all, how are you feeling, Detective Reese? You've been through quite an ordeal."
His hands are folded on the desk in front of him and he's got an amiable I'm nice sort of expression on his face that makes Dani feel immediately distrustful.
"I'm fine." She replies, searching his face and body language for anything that might tell her what she's doing in this room. She was, as Crews said, the so-called victim in this situation, so why aren't they asking her to write up a report? Why are they sticking her in a room with IAD like she's done something wrong?
"Good," Michaels says with a fake smile, "You had a lot of people very worried."
She narrows her eyes, "Well, next time I get kidnapped by a psychopath I'll be sure to let somebody know beforehand so nobody worries." She replies, barely reigning in the sarcasm in her voice.
"The Captain of this station," he looks down and checks the file in front of him, "Captain Tidwell in particular seemed very concerned about your wellbeing. Do you have any idea why that might be?"
"Because of the paperwork he'd have to do if I'd died, I guess," Dani replies easily, "He was the one who volunteered me for the fake FBI Task Force after all."
"Fake? What makes you think it was fake?" Michaels asks, eyeing her curiously.
"The only things they asked me about while I was there were people Crews or I are or were connected to. Then when I told them I wouldn't play spy for them they put me in the back of an SUV and handed me off to Roman Nevikov."
She doesn't see even a flicker of surprise or disbelief on Michaels face, and she finds somewhere in her, she was hoping she would. Maybe Charlie's conspiracy theory isn't such a conspiracy after all, she thinks to herself.
Meanwhile, in the interview room next door, Forsythe is interviewing - rather, is attempting to interview - Charlie. She's not making much headway.
"Okay, let's try something easy." Forsythe tries, turning her eyes on Charlie, "You say you traded yourself to Roman in order to free Detective Reese." She pauses to give Charlie the opportunity to comment. When he doesn't she continues, "Why did you do that?"
"Because I am connected to all beings just as all beings are connected to myself." Charlie replies immediately, looking relaxed to the point of cocky.
Forsythe's face betrays no emotion whatsoever as she sizes Charlie up.
"Would you say your 'connection' to Detective Reese is the same as it is to anyone else?" She asks, doing that creepy x-ray eyes thing that makes him feel like she's making (mostly likely incorrect) assumptions about him.
"Reese and I are partners." He tells her shortly, finding it already feels a little strange to go back to calling her Reese after calling her Dani for the last few days.
"So you are not romantically involved with Detective Reese?"
"No." Charlie tells her honestly, not yet, his mind supplies as he pulls an Ugli fruit from his pocket and starts to peel it.
"What about Captain Tidwell?" Forsythe asks, taking off her glasses and setting them on the table in front of her; and even though he knows what she's really asking, his eyebrows shoot up and his hand pauses halfway to his mouth with a slice of fruit.
"Nope, not in a romantic relationship with him either." Forsythe shoots him a look so he shrugs at her. "He's not really my type."
His lawyer bites the inside of his cheek and looks down at his notes to keep from laughing. Mr. Crews partner really wasn't kidding earlier when she told him by the elevators that he'd be in for a treat working as the lawyer of the Detective who apparently enjoys walking the knife edge between Zen and chaos.
"Did you kill Roman Nevikov?" Forsythe asks, attempting to wrong foot him.
He opens his mouth to throw some Zen at her, but his lawyer speaks before he can.
"You don't have to answer that."
Charlie gives Forsythe a what can you do? Look and offers both Thompson and Forsythe a slice of Ugli fruit.
"Do you have anything to say about the death of the man who kidnapped your partner?" She asks, arching one eyebrow at him in a way that reminds him of the look Jennifer used to give him right before he was relegated to the couch for the night.
"Speech is blasphemy, silence is a lie. Above speech and silence, there is a way out." He informs them both. Forsythe bristles and Charlie grins.
He was right before. This is going to be fun.
"Why do you think Detective Crews offered up his life for yours?" Forsythe asks her, but watches Charlie.
"We're partners." Dani replies immediately, resolutely not looking over at Charlie.
"You don't think it was so he could get Roman alone to kill him then?" Michaels suggests, leaning a little closer towards her over the desk, an almost conspiratorial expression on his face, as if they're cohorts, in this together.
"That's speculation at best, slander at worst." Thompson says at the same time as Dani says, "But he wasn't alone."
Both of the IAD officers are looking at her now, "Weren't they?"
"Is that a serious question? I already told you there was at least four other people in that SUV with Roman, all of them loyal to him. How exactly are you suggesting that Crews managed to kill Roman without getting torn apart by the AK-47-toting gangster wannabes?"
"How do you think he did it?" Forsythe asks, staring at her piercingly.
"Umm, guys? Sitting right here." Charlie says, raising his hand as if he were a kid in class.
"Sorry," Dani says finding she suddenly has a very short attention span for what these two clowns from the brass have to say to them, "You got any more of that creepy fruit?" She asks, swivelling her chair to turn to face her older partner.
"Ugli fruit," he corrects her, reaching into his pocket to pull one out, "Sure, you want one?"
"I just want to see if it tastes as bad as it looks." She says, as he dutifully peels the fruit and passes her a slice.
He can't believe she's actually resorting to eating fruit to ignore the rat squad. He can't help but wonder what Michaels said to her in their interview earlier that pissed her off this much.
She tips her head back a little and pulls the fruit into her mouth with her tongue, no no bad thoughts Charlie not while we're at work she'll stab you with a spoon, he thinks to himself as she chews and swallows it.
"That's not bad." She tells him in surprise.
"Juicy and delicious, right?" He says, grinning at her.
She nods, "Have you tried that?" She asks Thompson, "You should probably get used to the fruit thing if you're going to be his lawyer."
"I'm sorry, are we boring you, Detectives?" Forsythe snaps at them from across the table.
"Yes." They say in unison. Dani scowls because this whole thing is just a serious waste of her time. Charlie grins because, hey, look at that, they agree on something.
"Unless you have anything further of relevance to ask Detective Crews or Detective Reese, I'm going to suggest we draw this interview to a close and ask that you direct all further inquiries to my office." Thompson says.
When neither Michaels nor Forsythe seem able to raise a valid objection to Thompson's statement, the lawyer stands up. Charlie and Dani follow suit, and promptly follow him out of the room.
"You got any more of that Ugli fruit?" Dani asks as they head for the elevator.
Charlie shakes his head and flashes her a peaceful smile, "I thought our new friends might like it."
Dani doesn't bother to stifle the laugh that bubbles out of her as they step into the elevator. She can feel Charlie's hand settle almost possessively, low on her back, and she catches Tidwell's sour-grapes glare as the doors slide shut.
They're standing out on the patio deck of his (extravagant, unsettlingly enormous for a cop, just plain cool) house, leaning against the railing and enjoying the easy silence, the remnants of a Chinese takeout dinner on the small table between the loungers on the pool deck behind them. It's starting to get dark and the heat of the day has simmered down to a comfortable warmth, the sky burning orange over the sprawling valley below them as the sun sets.
"They asked me if we were in a, quote, 'romantic relationship'." He tells her, putting air quotes around the words.
"And what did you say?" She asks, and neither of them have turned to look at the other yet. They're trying to pretend this conversation isn't important, like the answers to their questions don't carry the weight of the world.
"I lied." His reply is simple, and not really an answer at all. I guess I'll have to get used to that, she thinks to herself.
She turns to say something else but finds him already watching her - and closer than she thought he was, too.
Not close enough, her wayward brain supplies, and she doesn't even bother to chastise herself.
When she thinks back to spending the night in his bed - the whole night and neither of them tried anything physical beyond holding each other, when she thinks of yesterday morning and how she's never been that intimate with someone in her entire life, when she thinks about the way they looked at each other in his orange grove days before - she accepts the feelings that come with those memories. She accepts that she's in love with him, and allows herself to enjoy the feeling.
"Hey, Dani?" He says softly, "if I kiss you right now, will you shoot me?"
Her voice is light and teasing as if she's playing coy when she looks up at him from beneath her eyelashes, leans closer, and says, "Only one way to find out."
He leans just a little further, but hesitates before actually kissing her.
"Coward." She whispers with a cocky smile, and he raises his eyebrows.
"Oh, am I now?" He replies breathlessly, and they're so close that his lips slightly brush hers when he speaks, and she huffs out a soft little laugh that sends a pleasant shiver down his spine.
"Are you gonna kiss me or what?" She asks, something akin to a challenge in her voice.
Charlie Crews has never been one to back down from a challenge.
So he kisses her, and for a second they both stand still, like they're both realising at the same moment oh my god I'm kissing my partner this is a really bad idea what is happening, until Dani slowly moves her hands up over his chest and around his neck, pulling him closer and tilting her head a little like she's looking for better access. Just like that they both melt into the kiss, and he slides his arms around her waist, pulling her closer and closer still until there's no discernible space between the two of them.
Later that night they're lying in bed together, and she's curled into his chest, his arms around her as she traces her fingertips over his scars and tattoos.
There's the spiders web she saw this morning, stretched over his right shoulder (his left if you're facing him) where her head currently rests; a basic outline of birds flying over a horizon and a sinking sun over his left pectoral, with a Chinese symbol a little way beneath it. On his right side, over his ribs, two badges - one from when he was an Officer, the other his Detective badge. She can see the few extra lines on the patrolman's badge where it was obviously touched up after he got out. On the right side of his chest, just above a long white scar which stretches round to his back, is (much like the pig on his back) a clumsily drawn '51-50'. She traces her thumb over it, and wants to ask. She feels him tense up a little, like he's waiting for her to say something.
But, she promised him this morning that she wouldn't, so she keeps her mouth shut, and continues to trace her way through the past he doesn't believe in. Her thumb finds its way over the small, circular white scar where his chest meets his shoulder, and she grimaces, remembering every detail of the moments after the gun went off.
"Hard to believe it's almost been a year, huh?" He offers quietly, trying to coax her into talking. Her silent examination of his skin is unnerving him somewhat.
"Ten months and three weeks." She replies, her voice just as quiet, and Charlie looks down at her in surprise. Now she's actively avoiding looking him in the eye, and that in itself is freaking him out a little.
He opens his mouth to say something - he's not sure what yet, he's winging it here, but she interrupts him before he can start.
"The day before you got shot I showed up here, drunk off my ass and yelling at you. Remember?"
He nods, and she looks up at him at last and sighs. "I have been …on the wagon, you might say, since then."
He manages to school his surprise, but she catches it. "I know, I know. Shocking, right? I don't know, Charlie, I just- I showed up at your house, completely wasted, and started lecturing you about responsibility." She reminds him, "and then when you got shot I thought - 'hey, I'd really like a drink right about now', but they needed someone to go with you to the hospital. Your Dad couldn't go because he was in the wheelchair, so it was me. And-"
"And you didn't leave." He finishes for her. Her eyes snap from the scar to his eyes again.
He smiles, almost shyly, "Tidwell told me."
He moves his left arm up to sweep her hair back off her face and she catches sight of part of the tattoo on his inside forearm. Another Chinese symbol a little below the crook of his elbow, then two short, regimented lines of blue and red teardrops. The lower half, closest to his hand, is covered with a bandage.
"What happened?" She asks, "That wasn't there earlier."
"No," He replies, his voice as cautiously blank as his face, "It wasn't."
She blinks at him, before remembering her earlier promise. Instead of speaking, she kisses the palm of his hand and leans back down to rest her head on his chest.
"The blue ones are people I've lost since- since then." He tells her after a pause, and she can feel the tension in every one of his muscles as he removes the light bandage and lets her look at the whole thing, "the Seybolts and my Mother."
He doesn't need to explain that if the blue ones are the lives he's lost, the red ones are the lives he's taken. There's four blue teardrops and five red, two of which still look a little irritated around the edges. He must have added them for Roman and the rogue FBI Agent. So the other three must be… Lonnie Garth, she remembers, the crack-head he shot on their first case together, then Arthur Tins, the escaped child killer during the Earthquake… so who's the fifth? She wonders.
He's not volunteering the information, and, since she did promise not to ask, she doesn't.
It's not healthy, this business of keeping all these secrets, but as they say, old habits die hard. They'll find their way out of them one day, but for now they are content to lie together, in his bed, trusting that though there may be secrets, there are no lies.