The Return of Matt Houston 10/Apart – 13
He took a cab back to Chestnut Street, retracing his steps: through a tunnel, up a flight of stairs, into the elevator, down the hall until he was at the door to the apartment. He punched in the numbers and quickly opened and closed the door.
She swung around as soon as she heard him. He took a deep breath, fighting the urge to soften. It didn't help that she looked irresistible to him right now. That old adage about a woman looking beautiful when she's angry seemed true at the moment.
She was about to speak when he cut her off.
"Wait a minute, I know what you're thinking. But before you say anything, I have a few questions for you."
"For me?"
"Uh huh."
"What kind of questions?"
"Tell me again what you meant earlier about working for Whitewood. What kind of work?"
She didn't want to answer. She was the one in charge of this case, the one calling the shots. Not him.
"Where were you? Why did you leave the apartment? What did you do to John?"
"I just gave him something to help him sleep. And I had to leave C.J. I had to find out for myself what's going on … and I'm glad I did."
"Where did you go?"
"SVU headquarters."
"WHAT?"
For the first time since their reunion he felt he was finally making progress, thinking with his head like the investigator he once was. Too bad it had to come at the cost of irritating the love of his life.
"Seems the police found some pretty disturbing information on you," he confided, analyzing her facial expressions and reaction carefully.
"On me? Like what?"
"Evidence linking you to grooming teens for Whitewood's clients."
Her expressive eyes grew twice their size.
"WHAT?"
"Is it true?"
She couldn't believe he was asking her such a question!
"You're kidding right?"
"I just want to know what's going on."
"I can't believe this!"
"Well, frankly, neither can I!"
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Well, you're being quite defensive, which only leads me to believe there's some truth to it, if in fact you are the C.J. I know and love. Now tell me what the hell is going on! Don't you think you've kept me in the dark long enough?"
She clenched her jaw.
"I told you there were good reasons… very good reasons, and that I couldn't tell you much. Isn't that enough?"
"If it were 1985 right now and not 2015, I'd say, sure. But after thirty years of being apart? C'mon C.J. This is me, Houston. We were so close once, could tell each other anything, practically read each other's minds. Just please, level with me, huh? Don't you think I'm owed the truth?"
She started thinking over his demands, debating all the ramifications of him learning the facts. Her secretive ways were necessary in order to protect him – the less he knew, the better. But she was between a rock and a hard place. How would she ever solve this case with him interfering? How would she ever solve this case with him distrusting her.
"You know, I'm surprised you don't hate me. I've given you plenty of reasons. Lord knows if I were in your shoes, I'd feel that way."
"I could never hate you C.J.," he said tenderly, wondering if she was trying to distract him or avoid answering his question.
"It's funny. I thought I was over you a long time ago. I only had to take one look at you and I was right back where I was. Thirty years..." she said as she snapped her fingers. "Gone like that."
He continued listening patiently, hoping she was on her way to explaining what he needed to know.
"I wasn't good to you, C.J. You had every right to be upset with me."
"Upset?" she half-chuckled. "Upset? Oh I was beyond upset. I was devastated! You know that old line about hell hath no fury like that of a woman scorned? Well, I sure as hell lived it! I mean, after all these years, as close as we were, I still wonder how could you want Elizabeth or any woman after being with me! We shared everything. I thought I meant more to you than that."
"I was a louse, I admit it," he confessed, pleased she was finally opening up. "I took you for granted. But you go and leave, fake your death of all things! Do you know what you put me through? Wait, forget me. I was the one who never believed you actually died in that plane crash. I've always been able to sense when you were in trouble and my gut told me you were alive… somewhere. Everyone thought I was crazy … still do. Murray, Chris, Will, all your friends - they all grieved for you, Uncle Roy especially. He loved you like a daughter. Do you know what your leaving did to him?"
She felt lower than dirt, but held it together and gave her stock answer.
"It was a necessary move in order to work for The Company."
"But couldn't you have at least told me? Couldn't you have picked up a phone, sent me a letter or a sign of some sort that you were alive? Did I really hurt you that bad?"
"Yes, you did," she bluntly answered. "But once I had made the decision to join The Company, I had no choice. I was sworn into not telling anybody. Even you. Even after I had forgiven you."
His voice softened. "If only you had talked to me."
"I did try talking to you, remember? Maybe I only hinted at my feelings. I didn't think I had to be so damn blunt! We were so close, I thought my feelings were obvious. You were so thrilled to be marrying Elizabeth - I would have caused a riff between us if I had come right out and told you what a mistake I thought you were making. And I wasn't about to stand around and wait for you to realize how wrong she was for you on your own and watch you wallow in self-pity after your relationship fell apart! The way I saw it, no matter if I stayed or if I left, I would have been miserable."
She had him there, and he felt bad too, knowing what a cad he was to her back then. He had spent the last thirty years calling himself every name in the book, blaming his actions for the reasons she left. Turns out he was right.
"Ironic thing is that Elizabeth and I called things off the night before you left. When I received your letter the next morning, I rushed to the airport looking for you, but your plane had already taken off."
She did her best to digest the earth-shattering news.
"You mean if I had waited a day or even a few hours ..."
"Try a few seconds."
She stared back at him, wishing she heard him wrong.
"I missed your plane by mere seconds."
"God!"
He tried to think of the words to get past their history without being cruel.
"So…" he ventured. "We were both right, and we were both wrong."
She thought about it a moment before acknowledging his statement.
"Yeah, I guess we were."
"So what do we do now?" he dared.
She shrugged. "I don't know. I would love to pretend the last thirty years never happened."
"We can't go back…"
"… I know but …"
He took a step forward and placed his hands on her shoulders, drawing her closer.
"We spent the first thirty years in each other's lives. How about we spend the last thirty years the same way."
"I like the sound of that but …"
"But?"
She pulled away, paced, and he had no choice but to wait for her next words anxiously. She bore the persona of a woman conflicted.
She stopped suddenly and turned towards him.
"Double agent," she said out of the blue.
"Double agent?"
"Uh huh. And you gotta believe there were things I did that didn't want to do."
"I believe you C.J.," he said sincerely.
"Having you here in New York, seeing you you after all these years has been wonderful, but … "
"But?"
"Well … it's also complicated things."
He raised an eyebrow.
"Complicated things? How so?"
"We've been tracking Whitewood for several years, getting as close as we could so we can get the iron clad goods on him. In the last few months, Whitewood has joined forces with another one of your archenemies. He used his connections to get him out of prison early. Then they started building a whole network of slave trading with underage prostitutes. But now that they know you're in town, they're abandoning their day jobs. They both want to see your head on a platter. They won't rest until they do."
"Who? Who's the other man?"
"Cord Cody. He's never forgotten that you killed his father."
"In self-defense."
"Right. But the way he sees it, well, he just sees it as a motive for murder. He's a very dangerous man, Houston, and he won't stop until you're dead and buried."