A/N: again, sorry so long on the up-date but for those who check them out, I recently did a trio of Christmas stories that were nagging at me to be written. I will try and up-date this and my other stories, now that I've gotten past what I consider the more difficult part of the story. For now, read, review, and enjoy! Thanks.

Chapter 21

"Okay, smartass, just how do you propose I get out of this?" Madigan hissed to her brother.

"Start by listening to him," Flack shot back. "Use that mouth of yours to find out why he professes to love you."

"Can you hear what he's saying?"

"We've got a mike in the room now so yeah, we can. And, just to really help you, we've got a SWAT negotiator here."

"Great, glad to hear that. Now someone kindly tell me what the hell I'm supposed to say," Madigan snapped. "I want to get out of this alive and I want to go to Sullivan's for something to eat, damnit, like I was supposed to before Butt-head here interrupted my damn plans!"

"We all have bad days," Flack replied easily.

"Oh yeah, I forgot, you have bad days too, Mr. Chase-A-Suspect-In-A-Brand-New-Suit-And-Land-On-Your-Ass," she shot back, mind going ninety-miles an hour as she tried to plot her next move. She heard a chuckle in the background.

"Madigan!" Elliot shouted.

"I heard you the first time! Jay-esus, boy, let a girl get her wind back, will ya?" Madigan shouted back, moving down the row of lockers. "Not every day a girl gets an admission of love from a guy!"

"Smooth move," an unfamiliar male voice said in Madigan's ear via her cell.

"You live on the streets for six years, bub, you learn to think one step ahead of your opponent, although I'm hoping Elliot isn't bright enough to realize I'm playing chess with him, 'cause if he is, I'll have to switch games," Madigan muttered. "Now shaddup and let me think."

"Want some advice?" the man asked.

"If it gets me out of here alive, I'm listening."

"Get him talking about his love. How long has he loved you, why does he love you and why did it take him so long to admit to it."

"Gotta start somewhere." Madigan thought for a moment. Then she hollered, "Hey Elliot, look, I'm flattered by the admission from you and all that, don't get me wrong, but I don't understand; why do you love me of all people? God knows I'm no angel." She stuck her head around a corner cautiously. "Eyes in the sky, where's Butt-head?" she muttered.

"About two rows to your left," Flack replied. "And moving towards you, limping."

"You're perfect. Everything about you is perfect," Elliot called back.

Madigan groaned silently. "I'm not perfect, Elliot, I've got flaws. I left home at eighteen because I was constantly fighting with my parents. I've made mistakes. I've got scars from those mistakes and memories. No, Elliot, I'm sorry but I'm not the angel you make me out to be."

"Don't say that!" Elliot shouted. "I've watched you, day in and day out! You're nothing like the other girls here! You're kind, you're never rude, and you can go to toe with the best of them and never break a sweat!"

"You're right behind him," Flack said.

Sure enough...

"Comes from having a cop for a brother, Elliot," Madigan said quietly, watching as Elliot spun around to face her. She leaned against the locker, crossed her arms over her chest, and tucked one ankle behind the other in a very casual pose. "Not only that, but after living on the streets for six years, bouncing around from state to state, not much scares me, especially other cops."

Elliot's face was bloody from his broken nose and he was beginning to sport some rather nasty black eyes. He was also limping thanks to Madigan's kick to his thigh and groin. Madigan raised an eyebrow at her handiwork.

"Here's the thing, Elliot; right now, you are in very, very serious trouble," Madigan said. "I can think of several charges that will be laid against you right off the bat, one of them being assault with a weapon and kidnapping."

"I didn't kidnap you!" Elliot protested.

"Kidnapping is defined as forcible confinement," she reminded him. "You held a gun to me and insisted that I was going to listen to you."

"I just wanted you to listen to me," he protested weakly. "I just wanted you to understand how much I love you."

"But you went about it the wrong way, bud. Holding a gun on someone just to get them to listen, that's not the way to go about doing things."

"Would you have listened to me?" he demanded.

"I would have given you a fair hearing, but I would have eventually turned you down. You're sweet in your own way but you're not my type, I'm afraid."

"You could have given me a chance! You're young, like me! You're not old enough to know what your 'type' is!"

"And you, who are two years older than me, you know?"

"I know what I want and I want you!" The gun wavered but then it straightened as a thought came to his mind. "I could force you to love me. I could threaten to hurt your brother if you didn't love me."

Madigan's eyebrows shot up at this.

"Maddy, be very careful. This is thin ice you're on here," Flack warned.

"You need to convince him to give you the gun and surrender himself to SWAT," the man said. "Tell him that we will take his cooperation in to consideration when laying charges against him. We have him surrounded but as long as he has the gun trained on you, we don't dare take the risk of taking him out without you being seriously injured or killed in the process."

Madigan chose her next words with care. What she really wanted to do was laugh in Elliot's face but she knew that was asking for trouble.

"You can't force someone to love you, Elliot. It just doesn't work that way. All that does is create resentment, anger, and more trouble than what the whole situation is worth," Madigan replied. "Love has to be earned, not forced, and I'm sorry but I can't and won't put myself through a situation like that." She went silent for a moment, as if thinking. "Tell you what; you give me the gun and we'll walk out of here together. Maybe the police will take things in to consideration if you cooperate with them." She unfolded herself from her position and slowly moving towards him, one hand out towards him.

Elliot felt as if his whole world was crashing down around him. The girl he loved, the girl he'd give anything for, she didn't love him and he knew that after this, she never would. She was not the kind of girl to stand by idly while those she cared about got hurt. It had been stupid to threaten her brother. Hell, this whole thing had been stupid. Madigan was right; there was always another option. This had been the wrong option, even though his parents had always encouraged him to go after what he wanted. Well, he'd wanted Madigan; he'd worshiped her, and look where it had gotten him; a whole world of trouble that was going to take him a lifetime to get out of.

Elliot had always been a quiet boy growing up, with doting parents who encouraged him in everything he tried, encouraged him to go after what he wanted in life. He'd been an average student in both high school and college, mostly majoring in computer courses and accounting. No girl had ever really interested him, not until Madigan had come along.

Madigan, sweet Madigan, with her easy smile, sensual grace in everything she did, beautiful body that he knew came from her love of climbing and weight-training, her quick wit that could make one laugh or cut one down just as easily, and her rock-solid determination in everything she did. She was beautiful and he had worshiped the very ground she walked on.

He'd tried being friendly, tried getting to know her better with friendly chat, but she never seemed to slow down long enough. Instead, she would smile politely, answer his questions, and keep on going. He would hate her if it weren't for the fact that she was so damn polite to him.

And now everything was coming down around his ears. She was right; he was in very serious trouble, especially for shooting Jerry. And the gun? Well, when they found out he'd bought the gun off of the streets from some unknown guy one day late at night some weeks back, there would be even more serious trouble for him. He knew the police didn't take too kindly to illegal weapons, especially if you had one without a license. And Detective Flack? When he got wind that his baby sister had been Elliot's hostage, he knew the ice-blue eyed detective would try and nail his sorry hide to the proverbial floor, partially as a brother and partially as a cop; Elliot would expect no less, not after having seen brother and sister together and seen their interaction. He knew Flack was very protective of Madigan, just as Madigan was protective of her brother.

He was out of options. Sure, he could surrender his weapon to Madigan and surrender himself to the cops, but he'd still have to live with the humiliation of having done what he'd done. After all, for every action there was an equal reaction. He'd have to face the consequences of his actions and he wasn't so sure he could do that. He'd heard stories about what happened to guys like him in prison, horror stories that could curdle one's blood.

Just one bullet and it would be over. That's all it would take, just one bullet.

Tears began to roll down his face as he pulled back the hammer of the little gun and the bullet chamber rotated, putting another bullet in to the barrel. Madigan froze. That hurt him. Didn't she know he would never hurt her? Ever? He loved her so much but his love was not enough. Not enough.

"I'm sorry, Madigan," he whispered. "So sorry. Forgive me, please."

And with that, he brought the gun up and fired. He never even heard Madigan's scream.