A/N: And the fic is finally finished. There are two more chapters after this, and then it's finally done. Happy New Year, everyone!
"I think I've had enough of this," says Kay, finally sliding off the bar and heading towards the jukebox in the back. "This thing still work?"
"It did the last time I was in here," Meldrick replies. He reaches into his pocket, fishing for change, and when he finds some, he, too, gets up and walks over to where she is.
"To think the department never noticed," Frank says, a note of amusement in his voice. "How long has it been for them, now?"
"Gee didn't have to split them up as partners until '91," John remarks. "At least twenty years."
"And that's on and off, too," Meldrick says over his shoulder. "You know what they say."
"Yeah…if you love her, let her go, and if she comes back, she's yours," says Mike. "Why'd you keep coming back, Kay?"
She takes the change out of Meldrick's hand and picks out a song, laughing when he pulls her out to dance with him as it starts to play.
"He's the longest relationship I've ever had with a guy," she says, unknowingly echoing a remark that John remembers hearing from someone in SVU. "Who else would put up with me?"
"If I do remember correctly, my dear Captain Howard," he says now, "All of us put up with you over the course of our years as murder police."
Kay smirks at him from behind Meldrick's arm. "You only put up with me because you didn't have a choice."
"Well, neither did Meldrick," Frank points out. "He had to work with you, too."
"I could have walked away if I'd wanted to," Meldrick tells him, casting an affectionate look at Kay as she glares at a laughing Mike. "I just didn't want to."
"You'd be an idiot to walk away," says Megan. "Somehow, I don't think it's gonna get any better than what you've got."
It probably wouldn't, either, and Meldrick knows it.
Love is one of those things that at times, seemed to elude them, mostly because it felt like they only ever had time for the job. This, of course, is hardly true in some cases, more true than anything else in others.
"Thanks, I think," says Kay, amused by Megan's remark. "Right now, I think we're just lucky it managed to work out."
"Luck has nothing to do with it," Frank tells her. "If it was meant to last, then it'll last."
"Never figured you as the sentimental type," says Mike.
"It's a one-time thing," says Frank, but all of them know that this isn't particularly true.
'Sentimental' wasn't a word that could have been used to describe any of the murder police as they were fourteen years ago, but time changes everything, including this.
"How are Mary and the kids, anyway?" Tim asks, the question of one partner to another.
"They're fine," Frank replies. "Doing well. Liv should be home in a few weeks for spring break; we're looking forward to that."
"Where'd she head off to?" John asks, almost painfully aware now of how much he's missed out on.
"North Carolina," says Frank. "She's been living with Mary's sister. Keeps telling us she wants to transfer back home, but so far, nothing."
"And you haven't thought about moving down there?" Kay asks. Frank shakes his head.
Frank shakes his head. "Nah," he replies. "New York was home once, but now Baltimore is. I couldn't leave even if I wanted to."
"Once again, we prove her theory," Meldrick remarks. "We can leave, but we always end up coming back."
An amused look crosses Tim's face at this. "I thought that only applied to Homicide."
He doesn't mean this seriously, and the others know it.
In truth, the theory applies to everything. They can leave the ones they love, but they always come back. They can leave the unit they came to think of as their home unit, but it'll always be where they end up.
They can leave the city that bleeds for other places, but ultimately, Baltimore is home, and none of them have ever been able to really, truly, stay away.
"Since we're on the subject of families," says Kay, poking at John, "You're not on number six, are you?"
The others laugh. John ignores this, and looks at Kay over his glasses. "No," he says, "I am not. Rowan's been taken hostage by Rose."
"Fifth time's the charm, then," says Meldrick, letting go of Kay as the song finally ends and going back towards the jukebox. "You haven't managed to stick your foot in your mouth yet?"
"Plenty of times," John replies, smirking. "I just haven't managed to piss her off enough yet, which, if I do say so myself, is somewhat of a miracle."
There is a brief lull in the conversation after this, in which Kay wanders over to where Meldrick is.
"Another miracle that's happened in your lifetime," she says, suddenly. "You remember, don't you? That Christmas Eve we were stuck on shift, and Stan brought that Christmas tree to the squad room…"
"And I asked him to name one miracle that happened in his lifetime," says John, picking up where she left off. "Yeah, I remember that. I also seem to remember him telling me that it was a miracle he hadn't killed me yet."
"It was," says Frank. "Sometimes, I think it was a miracle that we all made it through a shift without one of us ending up on the board."
This is true, the others think, half-rueful smiles crossing their faces at Frank's remark. Every now and then, it got to the point where they could only take so much of each other before it got to be too much.
Now, of course, it's changed, because nowadays, they hardly ever see each other.
This time, it is Mike who changes the subject, nodding towards Meldrick as he does. "So, what's the story with you two?" he asks. "Think you'll ever make it official?"
"Who says it isn't already?" Kay asks in reply. This remark earns her a few startled looks, and she laughs.
"Oh, come on," she says. "You really think we'd go through with it and not tell any of you?"
"That sounds like something you might do, yes," says John. "None of us are ever supposed to know everything about you, remember?"
"For some reason, I get the feeling this doesn't apply to Meldrick," says Frank. Kay casts an amused look at him.
"It doesn't," she tells him, "But he's the only one."
This doesn't surprise any of them. But then, this theory has applied to them as well: only those closest to their hearts know everything.
Everyone else knows them in pieces.
"Why is that, though?" Megan asks. "Why can some people know everything about us, but others only know pieces?"
"Because we trust some people more than others," Mike replies. "Out of all the people I know, there are only about seven people who know everything about me."
"And they're all people you'd trust with your life, right?" Meldrick asks. Mike shrugs.
"Five of them, anyway," he says. "Don't get me wrong; I love my brothers, but you guys have met 'em."
Laughter comes as a reply; it is exactly what Mike had expected, and so he pays it no mind, and continues where he left off.
"Seriously, though," he says. "Everyone in here has at least one person that knows everything about them, whether it's a parent, or a significant other, or a kid, right?"
The others nod, briefly, and wait for him to continue.
After a moment, he does.
"Those are the people closest to you," he says. "The ones who are gonna stay with you no matter what else happens. So, of course they're going to know everything, because you're never going to have to be afraid that one day, they're gonna leave. Everyone else…there aren't any guarantees."
It makes sense. A lot more sense than some of the other things he's said over the years, or even things that the rest of them have said over the years.
"So, it's love, then," says John. "The simple fact that no matter what, you'll always have that someone to count on."
"Well, yeah," says Mike. "Take this for example: if you knew that in say, five years from when you got married, Rowan was going to leave, would you have told her as much as you have?"
"Probably not."
"My point exactly. So it's not just love, it's trust. Blind faith, even. You had no reason to believe that she'd leave, and at the same time, you had no reason to believe that she'd stay beyond a year or two. But you told her everything anyway."
Blind faith has a lot to do with it, too.
In their line of work, it was easy to believe solely in what the evidence had to say, and nothing else. Love was one of those theories that didn't seem to apply to them much, beyond Frank, and even then, all of them had seen the toll that the job had taken.
"The problem with someone knowing everything is that at some point, if they want to, they can use it against you," Frank says now, and Tim glances over at him.
"I'll assume you're not talking about Mary," he replies. Frank shakes his head.
"No, I'm not talking about Mary. This is hypothetical." He trails off for a moment, and then continues. "No relationship works without that kind of blind faith, though. The belief that no matter what, this person won't use the worst of what they know to hurt you."
"And even if they do, the belief that whatever they're feeling won't last forever," says Megan. "In the way of anger, I mean."
Meldrick pulls more change out of his pocket and starts another song. "Is there really anything in this world that lasts forever, though?"
Nothing really seems like it could last forever in a world like the one they live in.
Relationships dissolve, marriages crumble, lives are lost every day, and it has been a long time since any of them wondered why Baltimore was sometimes referred to as the 'city that bleeds'. Names go up on the board, names disappear from the board, lineups change, and through it all, the only real constant they've had is each other.
"Define forever," says Frank. "Are we talking as in lasting until you die, or longer than a certain period of time?"
"Until we die," says Meldrick. "Something like love. Relationships. Besides you and Mary."
"Besides me and Mary," Frank repeats, and smirks. "You and Kay have lasted as long as we have, if not longer. Would you consider that forever?"
"Not yet," Meldrick replies. "We've still got a few years left."
"More than a few," says Kay. "Another lifetime, maybe."
"Haven't we already had a few of those?" John asks dryly. "All those times we've escaped death, I would think so."