Inevitable pt. 8

Natalie stood at her front door, staring at it. The outside light automatically came on, dispelling the darkness around her, but she wanted to break it. She wanted to hide under the black of night so that no one could see or bother her. Chris would be inside, and they would no doubt have a fight because she didn't call. It was nearly midnight now, and he had a right to be angry. The only question left to her, was did she tell him the real reason he should be angry with her - that a few hours ago she had her tongue down another man's throat? She took a deep breath and turned away from the house, taking a seat on the stoop. She stared at the rose bush against the far fence in silence, trying to sort out her jumbled brain.

She almost cheated on her husband tonight, and one day after their anniversary. What kind of person did that make her? Sure, no clothes were shed or actual sex was had, but she almost cheated. She brought her hands up to her flaming cheeks as she remembered with perfect clarity the way everything spiralled out of control so quickly. How had that even happened? He had been as surprised as her, she knew, but now what? His heat touched her soul, and she felt her breath quickening with her memories. His touch burned. His kiss...? That was something else entirely? She closed her eyes, feeling the effects even now. She would have had sex with him right then and there...at her place of work. On his desk. The one he acquired a whopping 24 hours prior. She felt like a slut.

The light finally went out, granting her wish and blanketing her with cool night air. She put a hand over her face, peeking through her open fingers, still staring at the damn bush. Did she tell Chris, and if not, then how the hell was she supposed to pretend everything was fine?

She would lie.

That made the situation even worse. She would be a would be adulterer, and a liar. Great! Nice options, Natalie!

A crow flew overhead and landed on the fence post, watching her with its beady little eyes. It felt like an omen. She needed to get a grip on her runaway guilt. What happened tonight was only a betrayal if she let it be. She loved Christian, and she married him. John McBain was an anomoly, and could be ignored. Her body craved him, but her brain still worked damn it! Adultery was a choice, and it wasn't going to happen. She worked very hard for her life here. No one was going to take it from her, not him or anyone else! Natalie closed her eyes again, praying that she could make herself believe her own words. It wasn't McBain she was worried about. He wasn't out to end her marriage anymore than he was his own. It was herself that was the problem. She always ruined everything good in her life, and that's what this was - but not this time. This time would be very different. She sighed and licked her dry lips. First, she had to grow a backbone and walk into her house, but did she tell Christian?

The click of the deadbolt caught her attention, and she stiffened. She felt him behind her, watching through the screen door.

"Are you coming inside?" he asked, evenly. He was angry.

That made her angry. "I'll be there in a minute!" she snapped, keeping her back to him. He shut the door and she sighed. Yep, they were definitely going to fight. She didn't want to though. She wanted him to hold her and love her like always. She wanted to feel him, and not another man's touch. She wanted to turn back the clock so that everything would be normal, but she was kidding herself because her life has never, ever been normal. Not even before her new boss disrupted things like a strategic wrecking ball. She sighed and stood on shaky legs. Then she stepped inside, wondering what was going to happen now, and not just tonight, but tomorrow? Tomorrow she had to go to work.


John sat stiffly on an old, worn bench, and stared at the stars that were shining overhead. The ones he could see anyway? Rainclouds were blocking the others, and he would be forced indoors soon. But not yet. He took several gulps from the beer in his hand, and glanced at the six pack that shared the seat with him. There was one bottle left after this. He should have bought more. He took a deep breath into his lungs, feeling like the biggest coward on the planet. His wife of five years was two floors down, in the temporary apartment that they shared together, no doubt worrying about him - and here he was, drinking alone on a rooftop so that he didn't have to face her. So that he didn't have to lie.

He knew he wasn't going to tell her. It had been a mistake, a collossal error, a heat-of-the-moment type of thing. The biggest mistake of his life, and he wasn't going to hurt her for nothing - and it was nothing. It was nothing. John took another drink.

It was something? There wasn't enough alcohol in his system, because he wasn't believing his own lies. He looked around, studying the rooftop, trying to distract himself from his dark thoughts. The set up was nice enough. It had a few potted trees and flowers. There was a tiny brick shed adjacent to the door, but otherwise the space was open. There were benches, and even heaters for cool nights. It would actually be a great place to bring Caitlyn, except that she would hate it. He frowned. How could he risk everything? There was only one answer. Natalie Vega was the devil. She was pure fire, and he had to stay far away from her. No more working late at night, or having lunches. No more pool games. He took the last sip of his beer, and then reached for the only remaining full bottle.

He knew that he was telling himself more lies. She wasn't to blame for what happened tonight, though he wanted it to be her fault. He kissed her. He willingly, knowingly put his lips on hers, and now they were both suffering for it because now everything was bad. They had danced around and stolen glances, flirting, but this was so much worse. Now he knew. He knew what he could only speculate about before, her taste, her touch. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, fighting the excitement that seemed to control his body.

He put the bottle to his lips and drank until less than half of the beer remained . He would have cheated on his wife tonight, and that was the part that was hurting him the most. If that phone hadn't rang...? He closed his eyes tightly, trying to push away the memory, but couldn't. He had unfastened her belt and opened her pants. He would have tore her jeans away and buried himself between her legs. He would have done it. That was what was killing him. They were interupted and given a reprieve from their impromptu indiscretion, but it wasn't because he pulled away of his own accord. He hadn't come to his senses or been wracked with guilt or awareness. He had simply gotten distracted by the ringing of a damn phone.

The beer was gone. He stood and walked over to the edge of the building, staring down at the ground blankly. He held out the bottle in his hand and dropped it, watching it smash onto the concrete, watching it shatter into a million, bright little pieces. It was childish, but it was all he had at the moment. He collected the rest of the bottles and dropped them one by one, enjoying the sound of them breaking. Enjoying the destructiveness of it. When there was nothing left to damage, he sighed and ran a hand over his face. Then he walked to the door and went inside. He couldn't stay out here all night. He couldn't hide forever. Tomorrow was coming, and he had no idea how he was supposed to handle that at all?


"Off the top of my head, I happen to know of at least 15 phones you could have used!" Chris stood in the hallway, shouting at his wife. She should have called. He was worried. What if she were doing something dangerous? What if something happened?

"I know, I'm sorry. I..."

"You what?" He stalked down the hall and entered their bedroom. She stopped in the doorway.

Natalie took a deep breath. Her anger wanted out, and it wasn't fair. He didn't deserve it. He wasn't who she was mad at, but he was here and he was yelling and it was getting on her nerves. "I said I was sorry Christian." He stared at her, saying nothing, just staring. "What exactly do you want from me?"

"How about a little courtesy Natalie? Do you think you could do that?"

She put her hands on her hips and walked closer. "Oh, you did not just say that to me, not after last night?"

"We're finished with that. You can't keep throwing that in my face when you get mad. I'm not the one in the wrong tonight."

She stepped back, saying nothing. How could she? She could still feel John's hands on her. She could still taste him. After another agonizing moment, she grabbed her pillow and the blanket from the end of the bed and stormed out of the room.

Christian took a couple of steps and slammed the door shut.


John opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling. He was in his bed. No, he was on his bed. He lifted himself slightly, resting on his elbows, and glanced around. No Caitlyn. He could hear her in the livingroom, and he still wasn't sure he could look at her? Last night he watched her sleeping in their bed peacefully. She was sleeping, not worried or angry, just asleep. He took off his shirt and shoes, and lay on the quilt gently, hoping sleep would claim him too. Obviously, it did. He sat up and went into the next room, watching her sort through some of her clothing. "Hey," he said softly, slightly nervous.

She smiled. "Hey, when did you get in last night?"

He cleared his throat. "It was late." He looked at the clothes again. "What are you doing?"

"Oh! Great news! Michael was telling me about a job opening at the hospital. I'm going to apply for it today."

He took a nearby seat. "What job?"

"Its official title is, Childcare Coordinator, but that's just a fancy name for babysitter. I could work in the hospital daycare, as well as with patients in the child ward. Isn't that great?" She held up a blouse. "Do you like this? Too fancy?"

He smiled. "That's great, Cait."

She looked up at him, finally noticing the bags under his eyes. "Are you okay? You seem...I don't know, melancholy or something?"

He shook his head. "Just tired."

She went over, sitting on his lap and hugging him. "Yeah, well that's the price you pay for prestige, John. You're the Chief of Police," she looked into his eyes, "enjoy it." Then she kissed him and went back to her clothing, anxious to head over to the hospital.

He sat there for a long time. Long after she left. He sighed. He had to get to work or he would be late, but he didn't want to go.


Natalie had been here for hours. She was so thankful that he was nowhere to be seen. He was at home with his wife where he should be. She sat in the chair that she had occupied all day yesterday, and sorted through the files dilligently. His office was unlocked when she arrived, not that it would have made a difference because she would have just picked it, and so she let herself inside. If she could just sort through enough of these, that would help him tremendously and then she wouldn't have to be here. She wouldn't have to sit across from him. So here she was, sitting in his office and trying not to look directly at the desk.

A phone rang outside in the squad room, and she tensed. She wrapped herself around him for Godsake! How could she even look at him now? The garbage can was full she noticed, bending and picking up a broken lamp. So that was what smashed? She had heard something? She gingerly placed it back into the trash, and put her hand over her mouth. How the hell was she supposed to get through this day? She closed her eyes, and the squeak of the door pierced the silence, along with her hanging-by-a-thread calm. He was here.

She opened her eyes and slowly eased back, turning toward the door. He was there, and he was frowning. He didn't speak, but walked around his desk leaving a wide berth.

"What are you doing in here?" he asked, hanging up his coat.

She licked her lips, and stared, waiting for him to finally look at her. It took a moment, but he sat across from her and met her eyes. He was angry. Good, so was she. "I've been working, boss."

"Stop calling me boss, you're giving me a complex."

She frowned too. They needed to stick to business. It's what they should have done from the start. "I've sorted out most of the files. It should make it easier for you to review them." He wasn't speaking and she wanted to deck him. "You're welcome."

"You shouldn't be in here."

"Tell me about it!"

He winced. "You shouldn't be in here when I'm not here. This is my office."

"Yeah, I got that. Your name is on the door, but hey, you could always arrest me?"

He lost his temper. "Damn it, Natalie!"

She stood and walked to the door, opening it. He moved so fast that she didn't even know until the wood slammed shut in her face. His palm was holding it in place, stopping her from fleeing. She turned, glaring. "What?" she yelled, not bothering to hide how pissed she was! He could fire her for all she cared.

"I don't think we're done here?" he said, his tone menacing.

"Actually, I can't think of a single reason why I should be here at all?" Someone knocked on the door, and she stepped back, running an aggrivated hand through her hair. She watched John open the door, and her uncle step inside.

"We've got a homicide," he said, addressing both of them. "Nat, take our new chief to his first Llanview crime scene." Then he left.

They stared at one another in silence.

Finally, Natalie walked out and John collected his jacket. He was trying to hold it together. He left his office and met with his pain-in-the-ass employee in the parking lot. Whatever epic-proportioned fight they were going to have, would have to wait? They both had a job to do.