A/N: Canadians, I apologize in advance if I've completely failed at Toronto-area geography. Wikipedia is only so reliable. =(

Chapter Four: Home Sweet Home

"Congratulations," was the first thing Greg said to Keira when she walked into the briefing room at the end of the day, having been summoned for a "talk."

"On what?" Keira asked, trying to hide her irritation. She wasn't looking forward to this conversation. Her psychological evaluation had been bad enough; going through such an ordeal twice in one day was going to be hell. She glanced mournfully at the empty seats, wishing that she had Jules or Spike with her to act as a buffer.

"You've outdone yourself," Greg remarked, smiling. "I've seen you go to some lengths to maintain privacy, but you've never avoided anyone better than you did Will today."

"I had other things to do than watch a rookie train," Keira answered, in what hopefully wasn't too rude a tone.

"It's called 'team bonding,'" Greg told her, "and, as much as you try to distance yourself from the rest of us, you're part of this team. You watched Sam on his first day, didn't you?"

When Keira didn't respond, Greg gestured towards the conference table. "Sit," he invited her.

Keira grudgingly lowered herself into a chair. Outside the enormous windows, Toronto was just getting started on rush hour. She should have been in her car right now, cursing at the traffic and trying to figure out how she was going to explain her current predicament to her brother.

"According to Will, the two of you had quite the serious relationship," Greg remarked, eying her carefully.

Will McKnight, I'm going to fucking kill you.

"It wasn't a 'serious relationship,'" Keira immediately countered. "We dated for a semester. In freshman year of college. And then I broke up with him." And she had spent the last decade trying to forget why.

Greg watched her for a moment, then said, "You're not going to tell me why you suddenly dropped out of college and moved halfway across the country, are you."

Fucking hell—Will told him that, too?

"I didn't drop out," Keira replied carefully. "I took a year off until I was sure I knew what I wanted to study, and then I transferred to another school. It's all in my file."

"That's not the way Will described it," Greg pointed out shrewdly. "He says you packed up your things and left without a word to anyone, except for a note you left him saying 'I'm sorry.'"

Keira wasn't going to think about that. "I'll admit," she said instead, "it was a shitty way to break up with someone. He deserved better. But I've never really been into the whole goodbye thing, and there wasn't much to talk about anyway. The relationship just wasn't working out." She shrugged, as if to say it was water under the bridge, as if it were a minor regret rather than something she still loathed herself for doing. "With all due respect, boss, are you going anywhere with this?"

Greg gazed at her for a moment, his eyes searching for any trace of a lie. You're not going to find one, she silently promised. Thanks to her stepfather, she was better at lying than anyone had a right to be.

"The question I'm getting at," Greg finally told her, "is this:will your ability to do your job be affected by Will's presence?"

"No."

"Keira, I'm serious."

"So am I," Keira said, narrowing her eyes. "Look, I'm not going to lie: I'm not thrilled about having him on the team. But that doesn't mean I can't be professional. Everyone here's got a skeleton or two in their closet, right? And yet, you all manage to function."

"Point taken," Greg replied quietly; she had a feeling that her words had hit rather close to home. "All right, then," the sergeant said, clearing his throat; 'that's all I had to say. See you tomorrow?"

"Bright and early," Keira promised, already halfway out the door.

Somehow, she wasn't surprised to find Will waiting for her in the parking lot.

"Hey," he said, stuffing his hands in his pockets. Keira winced when she saw what he was wearing: jeans and a button-down shirt, the latter of which brought out his eyes. He looked good—really good, as if the years since college hadn't touched him at all.

God, she'd missed him. She'd missed his smile and his laidback personality and the way his arms felt around her; she'd missed dinners at the McKnight house and that ratty old couch in his bedroom and even their spot in the library at UBC. Leaving him was the hardest thing she had ever done—she couldn't even begin to count the number of times she had reached for the phone, ready to explain everything and apologize and beg for his forgiveness, only to pull back and cry herself to sleep that night.

This was one of those times. She knew what she had to, what she had spent the whole afternoon planning for. She couldn't pick up the pieces with Will, no more than she could change what had happened to her in college. Their relationship was over, and if she had the strength to she'd end their friendship as well. He deserved much better than her.

"We need to talk," she told him, bracing herself.

Will started to speak, but Keira cut him off. "I know you want answers," she said, "but I can't give them to you. I left college for a reason, and it wasn't to hurt you. Beyond that, I don't want to talk about it."

She marveled at how steady her voice could be, even when she was on the verge of tears.

"Keira—"

"One more thing," Keira interrupted, clutching her car keys so tightly that they dug into her fingers. "I keep my personal life separate from my job. The guys here don't know a lot about my life before I came to the SRU, and I intend to keep it that way. I'm asking you to respect that."

For a long, uncomfortable moment, the expression on Will's face was completely unreadable. He simply stared at her, utterly taken aback; and then his features hardened with anger, and he demanded, "Is that all you have to say?"

Keira nodded, trying to ignore the lump in her throat.

"You've got to be kidding me," Will growled, folding his arms across his chest. "Fifteen years of friendship, and you just walk out without even saying goodbye, never mind giving an explanation? And now, ten years later, you expect me to just be okay with not knowing what the hell happened to you? Jesus fucking Christ, Keira, there were times when I thought you were dead. But you've been here all along, and you never even tried to get in touch with me!"

"I couldn't," Keira whispered, the response sounding weak even to herself.

"Why not?" Will practically yelled, his voice bursting with frustration. "We loved each other, didn't we? Or was that something else you lied about?"

And, just like that, Keira had her way out.

Knowing that Will would never forgive her, and knowing that she would never forgive herself, she summoned her last reserves of courage and said bluntly, "Our relationship was a mistake."

Will blinked, his mouth opening. "What?"

"Our relationship was a mistake," Keira repeated, loathing herself with every word she spoke. "I went along with it because I didn't want to ruin our friendship, but obviously I shouldn't have let things go so far. I'm sorry, but I didn't feel the same way about you as you did about me. That's why…" She took a deep breath, ready to tap the final nail into the coffin. "That's why I never wanted to have sex with you."

No, no it fucking wasn't why; but, judging by the thunderstruck expression on Will's face, she had just exposed a chink in his armor. Part of it was true, after all. She had never slept with him, had never even taken her shirt off in front of him, and she had always claimed that she wasn't ready. He hadn't pressured her in the slightest, wouldn't dream of it—but she knew he had been hurt by her refusals, even if he tried not to show it. How could he not be, after all the guys she had fooled around with in high school?

"So that's it, then," Will said, with equal parts fury and helplessness.

Swallowing, Keira replied, "I have to go. I'll see you tomorrow."

She began to walk towards her car, her hesitant strides gaining speed as the seconds lengthened and Will didn't try to stop her. Angrily brushing aside a stray tear that had formed in the corner of her eye, she fumbled with her keys and had to try three times before she was able to open the door. When she finally got in the car, she turned on the engine and slammed down on the gas pedal; she heard her tires squeal in protest as she sped out of the parking lot.

In the rearview mirror she caught one last glimpse of Will, his shoulders slumped and his eyes downcast, before she merged into traffic and left the unit behind.

Jason Ford's first task as a police officer had been to get down on one knee and propose to his longtime girlfriend, Allie Stevenson. Allie had grown up in Leslieville, a working class neighborhood in Toronto, and had no intention of leaving. With some help from her parents, the couple had finally saved up enough money to buy a small house on a quiet street. Emphasis on the quiet, because little Brian Ford was three, going on four, and they didn't want him getting into too much trouble.

Keira had been living with them since Brian was born, officially to help out with the baby but unofficially because Jason had found out that she was too broke to afford her own place. Yet another thing to add onto the very, very long list of reasons why she was completely indebted to her older brother—most of which had little to do with money.

By the time she parked in front of the house, she was a wreck. The whole ride home, her mind had refused to concentrate on anything besides Will; and not only on the disaster that today had turned out to be, but also on her last weekend at college. The memories were still as fresh and horrible as ever, and they were also a gateway back to some equally shitty recollections of her childhood.

As she let herself in through the front door, she smelled chicken pot pie and hot dogs—the latter for Brian, who was currently refusing to eat anything else. If necessary, he could be forced into eating healthier food; but, since that often resulted in a temporary loss of hearing for whoever made the attempt, Jason and Allie had decided to wait out the phase.

Stepping over a rather intimidating collection of toy trucks, Keira made her way into the kitchen, where Jason was checking the oven timer and Allie was doing a crossword. Brian was nowhere in sight, but more likely than not he was running around upstairs in a clown costume. "Hey," she said quietly, announcing her presence.

"Hey, yourself," Jason replied cheerfully, glancing up from the stove. Standing just above six feet tall, with dark features and broad shoulders, he was an intimidating sight—but, upon closer inspection, his brown eyes were friendly and his smile wide. His expression, however, soon turned into one of worry when he saw her. "Bad day at work?" he asked, frowning.

Detecting the concern in her husband's voice, Allie Ford looked up and scrutinized Keira. In terms of appearance, Allie was practically Jason's opposite: a petite figure with long, flowing blonde hair (which Keira had always envied) and sparkling blue eyes. "What's wrong?" she inquired softly.

Keira took a deep, shaking breath and told her brother and his wife, "Will McKnight just joined the SRU."

And then, as much to her surprise as theirs, she burst into tears.