A/N I hate this story. It's turned out nothing like I wanted it to, and it's a pain in the ass to write. But I couldn't just leave it unfinished, so...I'm eternally grateful to all of you who are reading and reviewing - I feel so bad for not replying to each of you personally, but you gotta know that I really appreciate it! Oh yeah, and the Internal Affair cops are created by me.
Disclaimer: I don't own Cold Case or any of its characters. Jeremy is a character created only for sole purposes of this story. Story title from Rosie Thomas, chapter title and lyrics from The Fray.
falling in and out of love, ashamed and proud of, together all the while
It had been a week since Lilly had taken up temporary – or, as it was beginning to seem, not so temporary – residence with him. Like a wounded bird stretching its wings to return to flight, they had easily fallen back into living side by side with little problem. They no longer had a set routine - Lilly had good days, and she had bad days, the number of each confusing Scotty to the point of distraction.
Bad days. He shook his head. Bad days was not enough to describe the way her body trembled after waking up screaming, the way she flinched away from him if he moved too suddenly, the way she cried in the shower when she thought he couldn't hear.
The early morning sun crept in through the windows, settling on the furniture like a golden halo. Scotty leant against the kitchen counter, comfortable in his cotton lounge pants and an old t-shirt, taking pleasure in the easy silence as he consumed a bowl of cereal. Occasionally, his eyes would dart to the closed door of his bedroom, his entire being on standby should he need to reassure once more.
His line of thought was interrupted by a soft knocking, and his head immediately spun towards the bedroom. Realizing that no sound could be heard from within, Scotty frowned, and looked towards the front door. What the…who the hell is at my door this early in the mornin'?
He opened the door, frowning in confusion at the sight of the two people on his doorstep. A woman, slim and standing to just below Scotty's chin, smiled reassuringly. She pushed a chocolate strand of hair out of her face, giving him a small smile.
"Detective Scotty Valens?"
"Who wants to know?" he asked uncertainly.
The man beside her flipped open a badge.
"Agents Dan Jones, Misha Tucker. Internal Affairs."
"Rat squad jus' couldn't keep their noses out, huh?"
Tucker shifted uncomfortably. "Do you and your partner have a moment?"
Scotty hesitated, caught between opening the door to allow them in or just shutting it there and then. After a moment, he nodded.
"Lil's not available, so ya got me. 'Sides, we don't really do that well wit' IAB when we're together."
"So we've heard," Jones added with the barest hint of a grin.
"Bet you're lovin' this," Scotty muttered, shutting the front door.
The two exchanged sad glances.
"No, Detective Valens, we aren't," Tucker replied quietly, shaking her head. Jones shrugged his shoulders.
"If it was up to us, we wouldn't be here," he continued. Scotty stared at them for a moment, then sank into the armchair.
"Alright."
Tucker sat down on the sofa, folding one knee over the other and straightening the crease in her pants.
"Scotty...may I call you Scotty?" At his nod, she gave a brief smile. "Scotty, how long were you and Detective Rush engaged in a relationship outside the professional parameters?"
"Six months, almost seven," Scotty replied, "but you already knew that, right?"
It was Jones' turn to smile briefly, and Scotty wished all Internal Affairs rats could be like this.
"We know. We just needed to check. Why did you decide to end your relationship?"
Scotty hesitated, trying to think of a way to say that he hadn't ended it, Lilly had.
"Nothin' to do wit' the job," he replied eventually. Jones leant forward, resting his elbows on his knees.
"Have there been any changes in Detective Rush's behavior that suggests maybe she was struggling with something?"
"No, nothin'."
"I assume you have an opinion of recent incidents?" he asked.
The male detective shrugged, his mind instantly filled with the memory of rushing into the darkness to find Lilly and seeing nothing but red.
Tucker nodded, shutting her notebook and unfolding her legs at the realization that she wasn't going to get an answer.
"Scotty, we understand how hard this time must be for both of you. I hope..."
A shadow of something passed over her face, and Jones shifted in his seat, the lines of his brow tightening as he watched his partner. Scotty realized that there was probably a reason other than belief in innocence that made them so understanding.
As soon as the emotion had come, it was gone, and a sunny smile appeared in its place.
"You can relax," she said quietly, "we're here as a formality. Nobody is questioning anything regarding what happened to Detective Rush."
Jones smirked. "Let us stay for ten minutes, then we can leave and say you answered all of our questions, and there was nothing to be concerned about."
The ten minutes turned into fifteen, which soon became twenty of the most surreal moments of Scotty's career. If he had the chance, he realized, he would very much like to know them better. As soon as the door had shut behind them, as soon as be was alone again, Scotty had his cell phone in hand.
"Stillman."
"Boss, it's Scotty."
"Do you need me to come over?" the lieutenant asked immediately.
"No, I jus'...IAB jus' left."
"Ah."
There was silence for a moment, until Stillman spoke again.
"Who was it?"
"Tucker and Jones. I don't get it, boss. They were…nice. We talked about football."
Hearing the complete mystification in his detective's voice, Stillman sighed.
"Scotty, Misha Tucker and Dan Jones were involved in an incident a few months ago."
"What kinda incident?"
"There'd been a complaint of police brutality, so IAB sent Tucker to interview the doer launching the complaint."
Scotty waited for his boss to continue, leaning anxiously against the counter.
"I don't know the finer details, but had it not been for Jones' late arrival, Tucker may have found herself sharing more with Lilly than perhaps she would have liked."
Letting the implication of his words sink in, Stillman heard his detective's sharp intake of breath.
"You asked for them 'specially," Scotty realized, "'Cause you knew that would be the end o' it."
Stillman was silent, his lack of an answer confirmation enough.
"I hope today doesn't prove too difficult."
As the line disconnected in his ear, Scotty stared at the phone in confusion. Muttering a string of curses under his breath, he dropped the phone back into its cradle and moved silently along the corridor.
Scotty shut the bedroom door, silently stripping down to his boxers and making his way to the small chest of drawers.
"What did IAB want?" came the soft voice from behind him. Scotty turned his head.
"Didn't know you were awake."
Lilly rolled onto her side, curling her knees and resting her cheek on one arm.
"What did they want?"
He dropped the fresh boxers and vest to the end of the bed and went to sit beside her.
"They wanted to talk to me. Jus' checkin' some stuff."
Lilly was silent for a moment, thinking.
"I didn't mean to get you in trouble," she whispered. He smiled, dragging a gentle finger across her brow.
"You didn't."
Her eyes closed, an almost relaxed look stealing over her face.
"Thanks…for not making me talk to them," she continued. Scotty stood up, grabbing a pair of jeans and disappearing into the bathroom.
"I told you. Didn't know you were awake."
Lilly listened to the sound of clothes hitting the floor, and then Scotty was back in her line of vision, moving to collect the wife-beater from the bed. She turned her head, silently, and apprehensively, admiring the smooth skin covering the muscles of his back.
"Scotty?"
"Yeah?"
"Why are you here?"
He pulled the vest over his head and stared at her, his brow creased in hurt confusion.
"Why am I here? You mean why am I botherin'? Why am I lettin' you stay in my apartment?"
Seeing that she'd wounded him unintentionally, Lilly shook her head fiercely.
"No! That's not what I meant!"
Hearing her distress, Scotty moved closer, taking her hand. She took a deep breath.
"Why haven't you gone back to work? I don't need you here anymore."
He arched an eyebrow. "You sure about that?"
She hesitated, her bottom lip disappearing between her teeth the only other sign of her apprehension.
"No," she answered eventually, "but I don't want you to get in trouble for not being there."
Scotty shrugged. "Boss signed me off on vacation time. No trouble."
The tightening of her grip on his hand was the only thing to tell him she wasn't convinced.
"I'll make a deal wit' you," he offered, and her eyes shot to his, "You call Dr Manning an' make an' appointment, I'll talk to Stillman 'bout workin'."
She attempted a laugh, but it came out more like a strangled gasp.
"I don't need to see Manning. I'm fine."
"Then I guess you're stuck wit' me for a while," he replied casually.
The silence that stretched between them seemed to go on forever, and Scotty didn't know whether it was a silence he should be concerned about or not.
"It's hit and miss," she said after a while, in a voice so soft he wasn't sure if he'd heard it, "the sadness. It's not just sadness, but...it's like...if it's really bad, it's like somebody cut off all the air to my lungs, and stole the part of me that can work through these things. I'm just worried that if I go back to work, I won't be the same cop I was before."
"Maybe you'll be a better one," Scotty pointed out gently.
Lilly nodded in renewed determination.
"Hand me the phone."
Chuckling to himself, Scotty did as she asked, watching her push in the number.
"You go get 'em, Lil."
She was wavering. Hearing it ringing, she hastily thrust the phone at him.
"I can't do it. I'm sorry."
Nodding, Scotty took the phone, but caught her hand to ensure she stayed beside him.
"This is Dr Manning."
"Doc, it's Scotty. Valens."
He heard the surprised intake of breath. "Scotty, hi. How are you?"
Lilly let out a long breath, and he nodded reluctantly.
"We're fine. It's jus'...Lil's got some questions. Can you fit us in?"
"Medical questions? Or questions that might need somebody with a degree in psychology?"
"You ain't got one o' them?" Scotty asked in confusion.
Manning chuckled.
"No, but if you leave it with me, I know somebody who does," she offered.
"What kinda somebody?"
"Somebody I've worked with for a long time. Tomorrow afternoon, 2pm?"
Beside him, Lilly nodded, and Scotty squeezed her hand.
"Sounds good. Thanks."
He put the phone down, and turned to find Lilly staring at the bandage wrapped tightly around his knuckles.
"What did you do?" she asked in concern. Scotty looked away.
"Nothin'."
A frown creased her brow.
"Give me your hand."
"Lil, it's nothin'..."
"Then you won't mind me having a look," she replied, reaching over to snatch his hand into her lap.
Scotty winced, but Lilly was already unwrapping the bandages with gentle ease. The cool air hit his injured hand, and he heard a sharp intake of breath from the blonde sitting beside him.
"Jesus, Scotty..."
His knuckles were bruised, swollen and black, with small cuts marring the skin in between. Lilly held his hand in hers, tenderly stroking her thumb over his wrist. She blew out a heavy sigh, then raised her narrowed eyes to his.
"When are you going to learn that punching walls is not an appropriate way to display anger?"
He blinked in surprise. "I don'…I didn't…"
"You're an idiot," she murmured, and the tone of her voice made him chuckle. Her glare grew more intense. "What's so funny?"
Scotty shook his head, grinning. "You tellin' me I'm an idiot. Sounds...well, it's good to hear."
Lilly looked up at him. "What do you mean?"
"You always used to call me an idiot. Even after we..."
"Hey, Scotty?" she said seriously.
"Yeah?"
Her fingers ghosted over his lips.
"You're an idiot."
Only two chapters left (thankfully!), but I hope you're enjoying it though I'm not! :]
