A/N: There are only two chapters left after this one, y'all.

Disclaimer: I don't own these characters. I do own a lovely jar of Marmite, though.

Chapter Thirty-Seven: On The Verge

John Stillman glanced up as he heard the metallic clattering of the blinds and the thud of a closing door. The noise startled him, as he thought all his detectives were either in the interview room with the doer or watching from Observation. They were about to close a case, and after the wild-goose-chase it had been at first, things seemed fairly straightforward. As a result, it was fairly slow around the office that day, and Stillman finally had an opportunity to catch up on some paperwork.

But, as he saw a streak of pale blonde hair hurry past the glass walls of his office and disappear into the observation room, he realized he'd been mistaken. Lilly had been outside on the balcony, it seemed. Had Stillman known she was out there, he'd have gone out to talk to her, but...knowing Lilly, especially having seen how distracted and scarce she'd been that day, he wasn't sure she'd have been in a listening mood, anyhow. Something, though…something sure seemed to have lit a fire under her.

With a slight chuckle and an almost paternal half-smile, Stillman shook his head slightly, then fished his letter opener out of the drawer and turned his attention to the two identical blank envelopes that had mysteriously appeared on his desk that day.

Hurrying through the squad room, Lilly slipped into Observation, hoping maybe…just maybe…she could snag Scotty before the interview. Maybe they could talk things over before she lost her nerve. Hell, maybe they could even go find a quiet place to talk and let Vera, Miller, and Jeffries get the confession; Lilly didn't care. For the first time in her life, work just wasn't important right now.

Upon arriving in the observation room, though, she realized Scotty and Vera were already in the room with Shawn. Their suspect sat glumly at the table, his plaid shirt accentuating the brawn of his shoulders, his hazel eyes haunted. Lilly studied him for a moment, knowing in a flash that the haunted look in his eyes spoke mostly of guilt, but there was something else under there…something else that she couldn't quite put a finger on.

Miller and Jeffries were in Observation already, and they glanced at Lilly curiously as she breezed in.

"Hey," she greeted them, in what she hoped was a light, professional tone. She couldn't let her co-workers know the depth of her feelings for Scotty. Not yet. Not until Scotty knew. She could handle her co-workers knowing she'd been stupid enough to have a fling with her partner, that that was what had chased her back out onto the line. But if she couldn't patch things up with Scotty, and the others knew she loved him…she couldn't handle the pitying glances they'd throw her way, couldn't handle the fact that they'd no doubt go out of their way to come over to the side of the room where she'd be and ask how she was doing, couldn't handle the idea that they'd tiptoe around the subject of Scotty whenever she was around. So she tamped down her feelings once more, trying to pretend that she was just in there to watch the interrogation, and nothing else.

Kat looked over at Lilly and saw her wearing her trademark Ice Queen mask again, then fixed a glare on Scotty through the glass, aghast at the fact that that screwed-up piece of man candy hadn't bothered to apologize to Lil yet. No way in hell had he apologized. If he had, Lilly Rush wouldn't be wearing that mask, wouldn't be trying to hide her hurt. Kat could have vaulted through that one-way window and throttled Scotty herself. But as she stole a few more peeks in Lilly's direction, she could see, underneath the hurt, what looked suspiciously close to fear in her colleague's eyes. Fear…of what?

Miller didn't have time to ponder that mystery, though, because the interview had already started, and she needed to be paying attention to the mystery she actually got paid to solve. She had a job to do, dammit, and the Rush-Valens soap opera had already demanded enough of her brainpower that day.

"No way would I have killed Tim…and I can't believe you think I killed Ann," Shawn was saying, spreading his hands wide in protest. "I loved her."

"People kill for love all the time," Vera replied brusquely, lightly slapping his notebook against the table for emphasis. "We ain't buyin' it."

Shawn was indignant. "What Ann and I had was…was special. Transcendent," he argued.

Transcendent, my ass, Scotty muttered inwardly. He wasn't even a hundred percent sure what the hell "transcendent love" looked like, or why a warehouse guy at a paper company would even be throwing that word around in the first place, but Scotty knew that, if there was such a thing as transcendent love…he'd been lucky enough to find it twice. And..unlucky enough to lose it. Both times.

"Lots of people with transcendent love wind up dead," he muttered cynically, his voice low and dark. Keep your drama out of it, Valens, his brain instructed. Just do your job, get through this and get the hell outta here.

"No, you don't understand," Shawn protested. "I would never, ever hurt Ann. Ever. She was my whole life."

"But she was all chummy with that flop-haired co-worker of hers," Vera pressed, slowly approaching the table from the corner where he'd been standing. "They went to that convention in Scranton together, had a few too many, and wound up in bed."

Shawn sputtered in disbelief, his eyes wide with affected shock, glancing from one detective to the other. "She--she would never. She'd never cheat on me. Ever. You all got some nerve, sayin' that about my Ann."

"Save it," Scotty snapped, having had more than enough of this guy's bullshit. "You already knew she was cheatin' on you. We got witnesses to back that up."

"Witnesses sayin' you threatened her," Vera added, glaring at their suspect.

Shawn was silent.

Scotty picked up where Vera left off. "And if that weren't enough, she had to go and add insult to injury…she didn't just sleep with him in Scranton, she kept sleepin' with him back here in Philly. She was plannin' your weddin' by day and sleepin' with Tim Talbot at night. That had to have pissed you off."

"You ever have a woman you wanted to spend the rest of your life with, Detective?" Shawn asked.

Anger started to rise in Scotty's chest. "This ain't about me, pal," he retorted, without missing a beat. "This is about you and Ann, and Tim and Ann, and the fact that you killed both of 'em."

"But have you?" Shawn insisted, looking up to meet Scotty's eyes, making it clear that he wasn't going to answer any more of their questions until Scotty answered his.

Scotty froze. He knew Lilly was behind the glass, he was almost sure of it…and he really didn't want her to know how much he loved her, how desperately he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. The intensity of his desire terrified him…he didn't understand it entirely, himself, but it didn't matter, anyway, since he was sure Lil didn't feel the same way about him. She'd made that perfectly clear the day before.

Vera glanced over at Scotty in alarm, noticing the clenched jaw and the glittering eyes, wondering if he should step in, say something to bail him out, but the expression he saw on his colleague's face told him to let Scotty have this one, to see where he was going with it.

What the hell? Scotty thought, after a moment's hesitation. Ain't got nothin' to lose. Maybe she'll think I'm talkin' about Elisa.

"Yeah," he conceded lightly. "I have."

"So you get where I'm comin' from," Shawn replied. "All I ever wanted was…the wife. The house. The kids. The dog. The goddamn white picket fence. "

"Me too," Scotty agreed softly, with a sad smile.

"All that crap…" Shawn continued, laughing bitterly, "…all that crap that chicks are supposed to want, and guys are supposed to run away from."

Vera, across the table, was dumbfounded. Scotty Valens…wanted that? Vera could have enlightened him then and there, given him stacks upon stacks of evidence that marriage wasn't all it was cracked up to be, but he was simply too stunned. Just when you think you know someone, he mused.

Lilly, for her part, froze behind the glass. Scotty…wanted that? The wife? The house? The kids? The dog? That was what he wanted?

"Don't see a ring on your finger, Detective," Shawn observed, and Scotty's dark eyes shot sparks in his direction. "Musta lost her somewhere along the line."

Scotty sighed. "Yeah," he finally agreed with a bitter chuckle. "Been there, done that."

He's talking about Elisa. He's talking about Elisa. He's talking about Elisa, Lilly chanted inwardly, balling her hands up into fists so tight that her nails dug painfully into her palms. He had to be talking about Elisa. That crap about the house and the kids and the dog…that had to be what he wanted with Elisa. Not with her. With Elisa. It had to be. Because Scotty knew, he had to know, no way in hell could he not know…that she couldn't give him those things.

"Well, then you know what it's like," Shawn answered, satisfied.

"Yeah. I do know. It hurts. It hurts like hell to lose someone you love. Layin' it all out there and watchin' her walk away, knowin' there ain't a damn thing I can do about it…" Scotty glanced up toward the glass and swallowed hard. "It's killin' me," he finished huskily.

Lilly froze. The hard glare she'd seen in his eyes that morning had been replaced with the hollow, ebony gaze of heartbreak.

And she knew, with earth-shattering certainty…that he wasn't talking about Elisa.

He was talking about...her.

She was simultaneously elated…

…and terrified.

She loved Scotty, she knew that now. Loved him more with each passing minute. But…he wanted things. Things she knew she couldn't give him.

This is for the best, that nagging voice from the previous night reminded her. He wants things you can't give him, because you're too broken. Too messed up. Too wounded. You're damaged goods, Rush. He should be with someone who can give him what he wants.

But he loves you, another voice piped up. Surely…if he loves you…he'll understand…won't he?

The world began to spin, and Lilly's eyes filled with tears. She was absolutely terrified, frozen to the spot by the realization that…telling Scotty she loved him…meant…all that, too. Things Lilly hadn't dared hope for since Patrick…things she wasn't even sure she wanted for herself…and Scotty wanted them…with her?

She couldn't move, couldn't breathe, couldn't do anything but stare at Scotty, to see the pain reflected in his eyes, pain that she had caused, and knew she'd continue to cause unless she could overcome her fears.

Sensing her colleague's turmoil, Miller glanced over at Lilly with concern. "You okay, Lil?"

But Lilly remained silent, her eyes fixed on Scotty. Miller slid closer to her and placed a supportive hand on her back.

A switch seemed to flip just then, and the hollow look in Scotty's eyes was replaced by one of anger and resolve. He was done with giving his own confession…he'd conceded way too much, thank you, it was beyond time to get the confession he was in there to get. Give a little to get a little, and he'd given more than his share. Setting his shoulders determinedly, he rose from his chair and switched tactics.

"Know what, Shawn? I got a temper," he admitted heatedly, rounding the table until he was face to face with the suspect. "I got a real nasty one. And if my girl was steppin' out on me, with somebody I worked with, no less, somebody I had to see every day, you think I'd take it sittin' down? You think I'd be okay with that?"

Shawn leaned back in his chair, but Scotty leaned forward, not giving him an extra inch of space.

"Think about it," Scotty pressed, looming over Shawn. "Her hands, that used to belong to you, touchin' someone else? While she was still wearing the diamond ring you bought her? Her lips…kissin' that other guy? Her naked, in bed, with him…screamin' his name insteada yours…"

"All right! All right! That's enough," Shawn screamed, leaping from his chair. "I did it. I killed her. And him. I killed both of them. I killed Ann…I just couldn't live knowing she didn't love me, that she loved some other guy….and then Tim….I waited four years because that's how long I was with Ann... I wanted him to know what it was like to live without her…to know the pain I was in having lost her."

That was it, Lilly realized. That haunted look in Shawn's eyes, tinged with a bit of something else…that something else was the same pain and heartbreak she saw reflected in Scotty's eyes as he gazed at her through the glass.

With a sigh, Scotty sat back down, suddenly sapped of strength, the dull throbbing in his forehead signaling the return of his headache. Or maybe an entirely new headache. He wasn't sure. He hadn't realized how much that interview would take out of him.

Vera glanced over, saw that his colleague was pretty much down for the count, and picked up where Scotty had left off, grabbing a yellow legal pad and asking softly, in detail, how Shawn had carried out the two murders. Lilly knew she should stay for the full confession, and the detective in her desperately wanted to…

…but the heartbroken woman in her had to get out of there. Had to go find someplace to sort through her thoughts…to see if she really could go through with this.

Her colleagues glanced up at her in alarm as she whirled abruptly and fled the observation room.

"What the hell was that all about?" Miller demanded sharply.

"Beats me," Jeffries replied with a shrug.

"Those two are so damn stupid," Miller griped.

"They can be," Jeffries agreed.

"He's so in love with her it's ridiculous," Miller said, her tone grouchy, but the smile that spread across her face belying her words.

"That he is," Jeffries confirmed. "And…I've never seen Lil act like this before."

"Me either," Miller replied softly. "She's in love with him…it's so obvious…dunno why I didn't see it before."

Jeffries grinned broadly at her. "You concedin' defeat, Miller?"

She shot him a fiery glare, but realized he had her. "Guess so," she sighed with a rueful smile. "Think those two fools'll work it out?" she asked, softening her gaze.

"I certainly hope so," Jeffries answered with a warm smile.

They were interrupted by the sound of the door opening as Stillman poked his head into the observation room, concern evident in his sharp, blue-gray eyes.

"Anybody seen Rush?" he asked, stealing a quick glance around the room.

"She just took off," Miller said with a shrug. "Dunno where she went."

"Well, when you do see her," Stillman said sternly, "tell her I'd like to have a talk with her."

"Will do, Boss," Miller said, eyes sparking with curiosity.

"And…send Valens in, when he's done," Stillman added as a final order. "Will…can I chat with you for a minute in my office?"

"Sure thing, John," Jeffries replied. Stillman headed out, and Jeffries followed.

"Wonder what the hell this is about," Kat mused, glancing at Jeffries with a raised eyebrow.

"I got a hunch," Jeffries answered with a smile.

"So…guess maybe I owe you that sixty bucks in my drawer," she said, grinning slyly.

"Maybe you oughta hang onto it for a while," he replied solemnly as he started to leave. "They don't work this out…it just wouldn't be right."

"They don't work what out?" Vera asked, emerging from the interview room, where Scotty was handcuffing Shawn and reading him his rights.

"Lil just took off," Miller replied with a sigh and an exasperated roll of her dark eyes.

"You mean she heard all that…and still took off?" Vera asked with alarm.

"'Fraid so," Miller answered.

Vera sighed in frustration. "Dammit," he groused softly. "I tried."

"Tried? Tried what?" Kat echoed in disbelief.

"Tried talkin' to Lil," Vera replied with a shrug.

"You? Nick Vera? Dolin' out relationship advice?" Kat retorted incredulously.

Vera smirked and shrugged. "I'm used to bein' underestimated, Miller," he replied. "But I'll bet you anything those two idiots get back together."

"Anything, huh?" Miller asked, arching a brow. "Even one of your precious donuts?"

"I'll do you one better," Vera challenged. "Coffee."

"Coffee? Like that nasty-ass coffee in the kitchen?" Kat demanded, folding her arms across her chest and shifting her weight to one leg. "That's not a bet. That's just…mean."

"Nope," Vera replied. "Real coffee. Like…from an actual…place that sells coffee," he finished lamely.

"Hmmmm…interesting," Miller purred thoughtfully. "Sounds good…'cause I got me a cravin' for a grande mocha latte with whipped cream, a little cinnamon, and maybe a few of those little chocolate sprinkles."

"That's funny," Vera retorted with a smirk. " 'Cause I was just thinkin' how good a big ol' cup of regular, non-nasty-ass coffee's gonna taste. No whipped cream, no fancy sprinkles, just regular old American coffee. The kind they used to make…before those jackasses at Starbucks decided to ruin everything…"

Vera's rant was interrupted briefly by Scotty emerging from the interview room, leading the handcuffed Shawn by the elbow. He glanced around the observation room, but didn't meet any of his colleagues' eyes, just kept going. They waited until he'd passed, then resumed their conversation.

"So what's our wager?" Miller asked, meeting Vera's gaze.

"I think they'll get back together," Vera mused. "But…if Rush just took off again…might be a while. I'd say by the end of the week, though."

"End of the week?" Miller sputtered. "This is gonna be easier than I thought. End of the day, tops."

"Oh, no way in hell," Vera disagreed with a shake of his head. "Valens says he wants the house and the dog and all that crap, and Rush runs off anyway? No way that's gonna work itself out easy."

"I read Valens the riot act in the car this mornin'," Kat proclaimed confidently. "He's gonna grovel his ass off, and everything's gonna be fine."

"No way," Vera argued. "She told me what he said this morning. And Rush knows how to hold a grudge."

"But I got the trump card," Miller retorted triumphantly. "She loves him, fatass."

Vera smiled the most obnoxious, arrogant smirk Kat had ever seen. "Well, I know that. It's obvious. You just figure that out all by yourself? I was the one who told Lil."

"You…told Lil she loves Scotty?" Miller repeated, her eyes widening , so astonished that she couldn't even come up with a witty retort to the insult Vera had just launched in her direction.

"Done and done, Miller," he replied, dusting his hands together with a sense of accomplishment. "Now all that's left is for her to figure it out. Which is gonna take a while. So…like I said…end of the week."

"If she knows she loves him," Kat disagreed. "then this ain't gonna take long at all."

"What makes you say that?" Vera demanded.

"Woman's intuition," Kat answered smugly.

Vera sighed huffily and rolled his eyes. "Yeah, whatever," he replied as he headed out of the observation room. That donut in there had been calling his name ever since his balcony confessional with Lil, and it was about damn time. After that, and the interrogation, he figured he definitely had it coming.

"You'd think they'da learned by now not to underestimate me," Miller muttered confidently to herself as she prepared to follow him out.

Lilly headed blindly down the stairs, reaching an isolated corner of the evidence warehouse before giving free reign to her panic. She stood leaning against one of the shelves, her heart roaring in her ears, the walls closing in, and her breathing rapid and shallow.

All I ever wanted was the wife…the house…the kids…the dog…the goddamn white picket fence.

Me, too.

Lilly hoped beyond all hope that it was just to get a confession, just to get that murdering scumbag to confess…but in her heart of hearts, she knew it wasn't. Scotty been engaged to Elisa. Rosalia had told her that much. He'd shown up one night with a diamond ring to prove to her that he wasn't going anywhere.

Which, was, of course, what Lilly feared most: that he'd leave her. But she suddenly realized that she was terrified, perhaps even more terrified…of him not leaving her.

If she told him she loved him, which she desperately ached to do…she was signing up for all that. Wasn't she? Wasn't she obligated to promise him all sorts of things she wasn't even sure she wanted, just so he wouldn't leave? That didn't seem right.

Lilly knew, in her heart of hearts…that if she ever did decide she wanted those things, that idyllic dream she'd all but given up on…it would be with Scotty. She knew that there wouldn't be anyone else for her. 

She knew she would never again love someone the way she loved Scotty; never be as happy, never laugh as much, never feel as much love…as she had with him. But she loved him too much to trap him in a relationship where he couldn't have the things he wanted, the things he deserved, the things Lilly knew he was fully capable of giving someone.

I love him…Lilly mused. So do I hang onto him, swallow my fears, pretend these things don't scare the crap out of me, and hope that someday I'll come around and give him what he wants? Or do I let him go, so he can go find happiness with someone whole, someone healed, someone who's…not scared?

Lilly realized, as she glanced around wildly, that she didn't like either one of those options. Acting like she wasn't scared…well, that hadn't worked. Ever since the beginning, she'd been swallowing her fears, hiding them, sweeping them under the rug, pretending they weren't there so she didn't have to deal with them…ignoring them so that maybe they'd go away. And that hadn't exactly been a success. She hadn't been able to keep herself from falling in love with Scotty, and she also hadn't been able to keep herself from being absolutely petrified by that very fact.

A sudden memory flashed into her mind, another memory from Tennessee…one hot day in August, when Lilly was nineteen and on the back of Ray's bike. With the wind in her hair and Philadelphia hundreds of miles in the rear-view mirror, Lilly felt free for the first time in her life. Ray was her ticket out, her road to freedom. He was the only one who knew her darkest secrets, the only one who knew her inside and out, and on a whim, he'd proposed.

Wanna get married? he'd asked with a flirtatious grin, as casually and informally as he'd asked her if she wanted to get fried chicken that day for lunch.

Married? She'd been taken aback at first, but had then agreed, with a dazzling smile and a casual shrug. Hey, if it didn't work out, she could always get a divorce, just like her mom had.

But the closer they got to the courthouse, the more terrified Lilly felt. Divorce certainly wasn't the cure-all people made it out to be…in fact, her mother's first divorce had been what plunged her into booze in the first place, and each subsequent divorce made the drinking that much worse. Lilly's mother, it seemed, was always doomed to be alone, despite the fact that she fought it with tooth and nail, leaping from guy to guy with a pathetic sense of panicked desperation. And Lilly knew she didn't want to end up like her mom. Maybe, she'd thought back then, maybe I'm just supposed to be alone. Maybe it'd be better if I didn't fight it.

By the time they'd reached the courthouse, she was nearly paralyzed with fear. Ray seemed to be having second thoughts, too, as he'd made no move to get off that bike. Neither did she, and for the longest time, the two of them just sat there, the Harley rumbling softly beneath them, the gentle breeze blowing their hair, Lilly's arms still around Ray's waist, neither of them daring to say a word or move a muscle.

Finally, Lilly had broken the silence. Ray…she'd said …I'm not sure I wanna do this.

Ray had sighed with a relief she'd never seen from anyone, before or since, and had whispered, Thank God. Me neither…it's that I don't love you, Lil…'cause I do…but…we're not ready. Maybe…someday, he'd said. Lilly had been just as relieved, and he'd kicked the bike into gear and taken them to a bar, the courthouse a distant memory by evening's end. Neither of them had really ever spoken of it again, but that night, over burgers and Bud Light at the dingy bar they'd found, Lilly thought, with the simplicity of youth, that if she ever did decide to get married...it'd be to Ray.

But Ray had never asked again, and they'd drifted apart. And then Patrick had showed up…and she'd been willing to spend forever with him…but that hadn't worked out, either.

And then there was Scotty. He wasn't asking her for forever yet. He hadn't proposed, and Lilly knew him well enough to know that he wasn't going to until he knew she was ready. But…that didn't change the fact that he wanted to just the same. He'd said as much. That's what he wanted from her…

…and she couldn't give it to him.

Trying to distract herself from her swirling thoughts, Lilly felt her eyes traveling over the rows upon rows of evidence boxes. Many, many of them had been marked CLOSED, and she felt a sense of satisfaction as she glanced around at boxes she'd marked, boxes she'd help seal up and lay to rest. Who knew when she'd be down here again? She was going back out on the line, where they created new evidence boxes rather than dig up old ones. She took a second to congratulate herself on all the cases they'd solved, all the many boxes that hadn't been marked CLOSED when she started that were now.

Her eyes lit on one particular box, a box with a single name written on the end. A name she'd written.

Daniela.

Lilly smiled slightly as she remembered that case, the case of a transgendered woman who'd disappeared in 1979. Something Daniela's boyfriend had said to her floated up from the deepest recesses of her memory.

It only happens once, he'd said. You only get one chance. You don't walk away when it happens.

When what happens? Lilly had asked.

When you find the one you've been looking for all along.

An unbidden tear coursed down her cheek, and she brushed it away and hastily looked for another box, some box that wouldn't remind her of where she was and why she was terrified and in pain. She glanced up at one at random, and shuddered when she read the name on it.

Lambert, J.

Janet Lambert had been a victim of George Marks, one of Philadelphia's most notorious serial killers, who had been working as a file clerk in their very own building, whose life Lilly had taken that night in the woods. Lilly avoided thinking about that night whenever she could. It was too much for her to deal with, so she just…didn't.

But George wasn't who came to mind today, thank God. Instead, Lilly remembered a conversation she'd had with Janet's daughter, Susan. Scotty had stepped away to take a call during their interview, and it was just Lilly and Susan sitting there. Seeing the pain in Susan's eyes, Lilly had tried to reassure her.

It wasn't your fault…what happened to your mom, she'd said.

Susan had looked at her, brown eyes dark with pain and regret. If I could have that moment back, she'd begun, with a trace of bitterness in her voice, I would have told her.

What? Lilly had pressed.

At that moment, Lilly saw Susan not as the beautiful woman she'd become, but as the sweet-faced child she'd been.

That I loved her, too, Susan had answered.

That's all you get in life, Lilly mused. Moments. And you don't get any of them back.

She was startled from her reverie by the sound of footsteps on the stairs. Quickly, she scrubbed the remnants of her tears from her face, hoping to God her mascara hadn't run and made her look like a raccoon. Usually, she didn't bother with waterproof, because usually, she didn't burst into tears in the middle of a workday. She smiled wryly despite her pain.

The smile turned to paralyzing fear when she caught a whiff of familiar aftershave and realized who it was that had come into the evidence warehouse.

She was hidden well enough that there was no way Scotty would see her unless he looked in her direction, which he didn't. He was merely carrying a pair of evidence boxes to their final resting place on the shelf, another pair of cases solved, another couple of families with some sense of closure. Closure. What the hell was that, anyway?

Heart pounding, she hoped he wouldn't look in her direction, and he didn't. She wasn't sure whether he'd look at her with contempt, as he had earlier, or pain, as he had most recently, and frankly, she couldn't handle either look. She could tell he didn't even know she was there, but the defeated slump of his shoulders told her the truth just as clearly as his eyes would have. He never looked defeated after solving a case. Never. Especially not lately.

Tears stung her eyes as she realized, again, how badly she'd hurt him. She was terrified that he wouldn't forgive her, but also terrified that he would, that he'd want to get back together…but if he did, he'd want forever.

Scotty finished his task and turned his back to her, started to go back the way he'd come, back up the stairs. Lilly's heart pounded wildly; if she let him walk away, who knew what he'd do? Who knew whether she'd ever have another chance? Her application for transfer was on Stillman's desk, she knew that in another day or two she'd be back out on the line, out of the squad and out of Scotty's life, but she realized that running away wasn't going to solve her problems.

Running away wasn't going to make her stop loving Scotty Valens.

You don't walk away when it happens.

I'd tell her…that I loved her, too.

The words tore from her throat, almost a sob, before she could stop them, before her fears could convince her to do otherwise.

"Scotty…wait."