Chris and Rita reminisce about their four years as partners, leading them to an unexpected conversation about his time in the hospital and unspoken realizations about their feelings for one another. Takes place right after the final scene of "Into the Fire".

Three Nights

"Wow, four years..."

The pair sat entwined on the couch, Rita still grasping Chris' hand that slinked around her shoulder. She had asked him to stay, and they had spent the last twenty minutes in contented silence, both relishing in each other's presence. They desperately needed this time to regroup after a disastrous few weeks. Chris and Jillian had broken up right before this entire Eric debacle, and both needed a breather and a chance to reconnect. Chris was the first to speak, marveling over Rita's reminder of the years they've spent together as partners. He looked down at Rita and caught her smile as she squeezed his hand tighter.

"Amazing, isn't it? We've made some great memories along the way."

He leaned over to murmur in her ear. "So, Sergeant Lance, any favorite moments?"

"Besides this one?" Rita tapped her guardian angel pin for emphasis. "Are we talking about our partnership, friendship, or both?"

"Let's start with memorable cases."

Rita offered a small giggle. "I have to say, Hutch going undercover was amazing. I learned so much from him, and I had fun playing a bad guy with you."

Chris laughed. "That was a trip. I miss him."

"Me too. We should drive to Lauderdale soon and take him to dinner. It will be fun to catch up. I haven't heard a good mother-in-law story in a while."

"Definitely, definitely. What else stands out over the years?"

"Hmmm… as exhausted as I was, I loved cleaning you out of a hundred grand at that casino."

"Ha! Man, you learned some skills from that card mechanic. I knew I was going to lose, but I was still in awe. All of that sweat and frustration was real on my part. You destroyed me. You still haven't taught me your ways yet."

"Maybe later I'll teach you a few things."

Chris playfully recreated his growl from their undercover phone sex call. "I bet you will."

Rita tickled his side. "Would you cut it out?!" Proud of her fake attack, she settled back in. "So… what are some of your most memorable cases, Sergeant Lorenzo?"

Chris wrapped his arm around her again and groaned. "I had to strip in front of you. Still my most embarrassing moment in my ten years on the job."

"Hey, you were great at it! Rikki taught you well. And that case wasn't all bad."

He raised an eyebrow. "No, not at all- you got kidnapped and almost shot, but not all bad, right?"

Rita blushed, but continued. "Well, I was referring to our undercover gig."

"Ah… so it was a memorable case for you, too." He emphasized his statement with a gentle squeeze of her shoulder.

"That was what, our fourth time playing a couple? By then we had it down to a science. We could just have fun."

"And that we did, well, until the kidnapping and almost killed part."

Rita gave a small laugh. "Exactly!"

"I'm pretty sure my most memorable cases are all ones where we were undercover together. Not to brag, but I think we do our best work when we are in that environment. We pick up on each other's body language and nuances, and it all clicks."

Rita quickly agreed with his assessment. "You're right. Not that those situations didn't have their share of risk, but being together in the field is always where I feel safest. We can keep an eye on each other."

"I think the one I hated the most was the slavery operation. I couldn't keep tabs on you, and everything fell apart so fast."

"I thought that was your favorite because of a certain gorgeous FBI agent."

"Gorgeous or not, she put you in danger. Unforgivable in my book."

"My least favorite was the Cameron case, for obvious reasons."

"I hear you. I did like when you punched him though."

"Yeah, that was fantastic."

The two continued to trade memories back and forth, focusing on the fun ones and sharing laughs.

"Ugh, dressing up like my mother to play her stunt double- I don't think I'll ever live that one down. Memorable for sure!"

Rita chuckled. "You're lucky you made it out of that alive. That car accident on set was intense."

"Well, anything involving my mother is intense."

"True. Anna is definitely a force of nature." Rita quickly remembered the two times she had been in Anna's presence, the first time during their undercover assignment on the movie set, and unbeknownst to Chris, they had dinner together when Anna visited about a week after the shooting. Anna was obviously charming and was very nice to Rita, but Rita understood Chris' complicated feelings of abandonment. "Have you talked to her recently?"

"Not since Christmas. And before that, my birthday, and her visit after the shooting. She's really big on holidays or dramatic events. Anything to make an entrance."

Rita quieted at the mention of the shooting. Near a whisper, she noted, "Dramatic event. That's one way to put it."

Chris noticed the catch in her voice and glanced over to see Rita's grin change to a more somber expression. "Hey, what's wrong?"

Rita faltered for a second before regaining her voice. "Chris… have you ever had any regrets about our partnership?"

"Regrets? Absolutely not! Why would you ask that?" He took his other hand and instinctively massaged her left shoulder. What was this about?

Rita released his hand and leaned forward, grabbing two halves of now-cold grilled cheese. She turned sideways to face Chris, handing him a half. Picking at her sandwich, she didn't make eye contact as she attempted to explain her tumultuous heart.

"Thinking about all of the moments that have defined our partnership… some of the bad ones wouldn't have happened to you if you had been partnered with someone else."

Chris stared at her in disbelief. She had gone through enough today and during the past week. This was not something else that should be weighing on her mind.

"Sam, look at me."

Rita forced herself to meet his baby blues, praying her tears wouldn't spill over.

"I don't know what you're talking about, and I'm not sure I want to know. I don't want you to ever doubt what you mean to me. Your friendship, partnership, everything. I wouldn't be the person I am today without you."

Rita stammered as she stifled a sob. "This… this whole thing with Eric. He put you on a direct collision course with death this week. That wouldn't have happened if you and I weren't partnered together."

"But we'd still be best friends, and you'd be damned sure that I would have still gone to that warehouse last week, partners or not."

"Maybe without the partnership, we wouldn't be as close today. We wouldn't feel the need to protect each other at all costs."

Her words cut through Chris like a dagger, and he shot back defensively. "Is that something you regret? How close we are?"

Rita met his fiery gaze, and when he saw her eyes, he immediately felt bad about his impulsivity. "Rita, I'm sorry. I didn't mean that." She truly looked sad and lost, a look he had become all too familiar with during the past few months. A look he didn't like at all. He expected her to banter back with choice words he deserved, but instead she leaned over and kissed his cheek in response. Grateful but confused, he searched her eyes again for insight.

Rita sighed. How could she get him to understand her heart when she didn't understand it herself? This week, hell, this past year, was a roller coaster. All she could think of was that he was always there for her, no matter the circumstances. This week he held her when she sobbed, patiently waited when she pushed him away, talked her through the terror in her heart, and literally and figuratively removed the broken pieces from her life. She had ignored so much about her relationship with Chris since the shooting, and without significant others to hide behind, everything was bubbling to the surface.

"You know I don't feel that way. It's just… doesn't it scare you at times? Chris, I would die for you. Right now, this minute, end of story, no questions asked. But I also feel so guilty that you almost died because of me this week, and it had nothing to do with random criminals that we deal with every day on the job. It was personal, and you were roped into it all unnecessarily."

Chris viewed her with renewed understanding. This hurt went way beyond Eric. Her life was never easy, and often full of loss. "Sammy, You can't beat yourself up over this. Eric made those decisions, not you. And, if we're talking bad memories, I could volley back with a few of my own. You've been in danger too because of me."

"When?"

"Okay, let's start with Charlie. He kidnapped you, almost raped and murdered you, just to get back at me for throwing him in jail. You were a pawn in his sick game because of the fact that you're my partner."

Rita stared at her sandwich. He had a point. If only she could stop feeling so hopeless about what had transpired. It wasn't just Chris' role in the case. It was everything. The fact that she tried to make the relationship with Eric work for far too long. That she wasn't careful. That she thought she was pregnant. It was all so wrong. How could she explain her relief about her actual diagnosis without sharing these shadowy feelings in the depths of her heart? The admission that she felt safest in his arms, that she lived for these moments, that she missed their intimacy during the months they were in significant relationships.

Chris hesitated before the next example, but continued anyway. It had to be said. "Boo Maxwell tried to gun you down because of me. If George hadn't shoved you, you'd be dead."

"He wouldn't have been hired in the first place if I was out of the picture. She wouldn't have shot you if-"

Chris interrupted her before she could finish her thought. "Stop right there. You're not blaming yourself for Deborah, are you? Rita, she was crazy!"

"Aren't you doing the same thing with Maxwell?"

Chris softened. "Touché."

"She thought I stole you from her. It escalated because of how close we were. How close we are."

"You're my best friend, Sam. Some people can't tell the difference. She had a mental illness. Don't you dare blame this on yourself. On us."

Rita nodded.

Something had been on his mind for months. Dare he bring it up now? He took the remnants of their picked-apart sandwiches and put them back on the plate, so he had her undivided attention. "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"You've had a tough week, so if you don't want to talk about this, I understand. The shooting-"

"-I don't want to talk about the shooting," Rita interjected. Alarm bells rang in Rita's mind and heart. It was a dangerous topic, based on fear factor alone.

"Okay, okay. It's just that… we've never talked about it. Maybe we should. Someday."

Rita didn't respond verbally, but instead resumed her treasured spot in his arms. She looked at her hands, focusing on her Claddagh ring, the Irish friendship ring given to her by her soulmate long ago. Crown, hands, heart; loyalty, friendship, love. She knew what she had to do. This wasn't fair to him. If he had questions, she needed to answer them, no matter how uncomfortable or emotional they made her feel. She wouldn't want those questions answered by Harry, Fran, Derek, Jillian, or anyone else. As much as she wanted to forget it ever happened, it was a moment that defined their friendship and partnership in innumerable ways over the past year. Maybe this day of heartbreak and healing was the perfect time to revisit the past.

She also couldn't blame him; she opened the door to this conversation a week earlier, when she wanted to quit the force. She told him that her feelings from the shooting were back, but she never really went into detail. She owed it to him to be honest. Rita cautiously met his gaze, suddenly self-conscious with the realization that he had been staring at her. Already the conversation had become too serious, and they hadn't yet spoken a single word. "What do you want to know?"

"Rita, we don't have to-"

"-Yes, we do." She smiled to assure him of her certainty. "What's on your mind?"

Chris carefully took her hand in his and kissed it before pressing it in between both of his hands. He knew the magnitude of his request and its potential impact. "Tell me about the three nights."

"Three nights?" Rita questioned, curiously.

"Yeah. I was out for three nights. You stayed by my side and I have zero recollection of any of it. Help me fill in the blanks."

"Well, that's a tall order…" Rita found herself speechless. How could she describe that time to Chris? Moments of fear, uncertainty, and rage all came racing back to the surface. Maybe she hadn't buried her wounds as deeply as she had hoped to over the past year.

Chris sensed her hesitation and interrupted her thoughts. "I have an idea. Tell me about the bright spots. What were the positives of those days?"

Rita relaxed a bit. The good stuff. The glimmers of hope. That might be easier to discuss. "Honestly, a lot of it is a blur, but here's what I remember. The Captain stayed with me the entire first night, paced with me during the hours you were in surgery… held me when I fell apart." She left out the part about being asked if she was his wife. That was still too real and too raw, the question still nagging at her psyche.

Chris gently tousled Rita's hair. "He's a rock. When I thought you were dead, he did the same thing for me."

Rita nodded solemnly, remembering when Chris was in a similar state of grief and loss. She knew her "death" absolutely destroyed him; his empathy was gospel.

"They finally let me in to see you around sunrise, and I just remember the quiet chaos of the room. There were lots of doctors and nurses in and out, and no one was really telling me anything at first because I wasn't family. If it wasn't for Jillian sympathizing and pulling strings, I don't know what I would have done."

Chris exhaled in frustration. "That shouldn't have happened in the first place. We're each other's health care proxy."

"I know. Once the paperwork from the department was faxed over, it was smooth sailing. But those first few hours were kind of a disaster."

"I just hate that you had to fight to get answers. That was the last thing you needed on top of everything else."

"You were the one fighting to stay alive. I just held on and prayed. Cap took care of calling your parents, and I was able to focus on you. Jillian said the first 24 hours were critical, and I just sat there and listened to every little beep on the monitor. By the end of that first day you had opened your eyes a bit, but you were heavily sedated. I still took it as a good sign."

Rita smiled as she recalled the second day. "The second morning, you were more awake, but goofy. That was when you asked out every person that came into your room."

"Did I ask you out?"

Rita blushed, remembering the many things he said to her while under the influence of hospital grade narcotics. She would never tell him. She would never share how many times he said he loved her, told her how beautiful she was, or that in a moment of heartache and need she planted a kiss on his drowsy lips, knowing he'd never remember. "No comment. I would never hold you accountable for any of those ramblings." Nor would she hold herself accountable for her actions, either.

"That bad, huh?" Chris flashed his trademark grin, urging Rita to go on.

"Day two was interesting, to say the least. The shooting hit the papers and news stations, and even though it was just a quick blurb thanks to the Cap running interference, you were mentioned by name. That was when the floodgates opened. I think every single one of your past girlfriends showed up at the hospital."

"Get out of here." Chris eyed her incredulously, assuming she was exaggerating.

"Sam, I'm not joking. Fran ran interference, and she actually kept a list of everyone who showed up. It was like a revolving door of your dating history."

"Well, that's embarrassing."

"You know what, Chris? You shouldn't be embarrassed. Just the fact that these women came to the hospital to check on you- it shows your character. After all this time, these women genuinely care about you. They weren't conquests- they each felt valued and respected, even when things didn't work out. I let Fran have fun with it all, but I did step away from your room to chat with Rikki and Melissa. I think they were the most freaked out."

"Thank you for doing that."

"Both have always been warm and kind to me. I owed them that much. Melissa even counseled me a bit, so it was all for the best."

"Any other visitors? I'm almost afraid to ask."

"The entire department kept round the clock vigil in shifts, for both you and George. You are loved, my friend."

"So are you. I'm sure they were just as worried about the person at my bedside as they were about me."

"Diana dropped everything at her new job and came back to Palm Beach that week. She's the only person I trusted to stay with you while I ran home to shower and grab clothes. We broke so many ICU rules- between me, Diana, Cap and Fran, we kind of dominated your room. I don't think the hospital staff knew what to make of us."

"Dee's a great friend. I'm glad she was there for you. For us."

Rita laughed, remembering the next detail. "Donnie Dogs sent dinner for the entire hospital staff, with a note attached to make you their number one priority."

Chris' jaw dropped. "I'm sorry, Donnie did what?!"

"You heard me. And he'd kill me if he knew that I told you. He likes you, you know."

"Partner, I'd say that was entirely for your benefit."

Rita sighed as she contemplated those words. She wasn't blind; she knew Donnie had a longstanding crush on her. However, when Chris was shot, she saw a different side to him. He knew his place, and knew that Chris was Rita's world, even when Rita herself denied it. Donnie sent her roses while she was at Chris' bedside, with a note attached that she secretly added to her box of treasured letters:

Rita,

Chin up, Doll. Lorenzo is too stubborn to let this bullet do him in. He's strong. I know how much you love him, and he feels it. He knows you are with him, and that love is going to pull him through. If you need anything, anything at all, you know where to find me. ~Donnie

"Well, regardless, it was a nice gesture. Cotton also came by. I put him in charge of feeding my fish and bringing in both of our mail."

"Wait. You gave Cotton keys to our places?"

Rita laughed. "It was a weak moment. In hindsight, not one of my best ideas. I guess I figured if you could give Donnie a chance, it was time I gave Cotton the same opportunity. I don't think he stole anything, so that's good news!"

"Surprise, surprise, although now I feel like I need to go through my loft with a forensics team. Anything else I should know?"

"I think that covers the good parts of those days. The third day and night I basically paced your room. Jillian was hopeful you'd be waking up for real since they reduced the meds, so I pretty much stared at you and waited. Stubborn, as always, you took your sweet time." She gave him a wink to match her sarcastic smirk. "I finally crashed in the chair, and woke up to your voice. You waking up, officially waking up, was the highlight. I think that was the first time I truly breathed in three days. "

Chris was unusually quiet, so Rita continued. "If there's one thing I learned from that experience, it's that the word 'family' means so much more than blood relatives. We have an entire army of people in our corner. It was comforting during those crazy days."

Chris finally spoke. He was hoping that Rita's account would somehow trigger memories of that time. He felt like a piece of himself had been missing this past year, but none of her recollection was familiar to him at all. "I wish I could remember. My only real memory was waking up and seeing you asleep in that chair. That's when I knew I was alive."

"Do you remember getting shot?"

"No. Some fuzzy details have come back here and there, but the shooting itself, I can't remember at all."

"Maybe that's a good thing. I can remember enough for the both of us."

Chris gripped her tighter. "The only thing I remember was realizing that you were Maxwell's target, and that she was behind it all. I saw a wall of pictures, turned around, and everything went blank."

Rita sighed. "Why does it always have to be a shrine?"

Chris shook his head in a silent response. "There is one picture that flashes in my mind all the time. It was the only one I really focused on, and I knew exactly where it was taken and that you were right next to me. Only I could see burn marks around the edges of the photo where your face would have been. That was when it hit me like a lightning bolt. You were the target in the garage. All of the gifts and secret admirer bullshit- it was all her."

"If Derek and I didn't find Maxwell in that bar when we did..."

"Rita, what happened? How did you get to me in time?"

Rita played with her fingernails, her characteristic mannerism when she was nervous or avoiding difficult topics. Here we go, she thought. The bad stuff. The scenes that still haunted her dreams a year later. But if it were Rita, she'd want to know the details too. She took a deep breath and steadied herself. It was time to face it for the both of them.

"We found Maxwell at the last bar, and after I roughed him up a bit, he finally told us that she was behind the shooting in the garage. He said I, "stole the only man she ever loved". I don't think I breathed for a full five seconds when I pieced it all together, knowing that you were at her place. I completely lost it. Derek raced to her apartment while I called you and called for backup. I don't even remember the drive. I just knew that I needed to get to you. I was a mess."

Chris kissed her left temple as she spoke. "I'm so sorry you went through that."

"When we got to her place, I just remember how eerily quiet it was. I knew the second I walked in that it wasn't good. I just prayed we weren't too late. We found you in the bedroom…" Rita noticed her voice cracking and paused to regain composure.

"Sam, you can stop. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to pry and take this too far."

"You were so still. That's what I remember most. I thought you were…" Rita wiped the tears that were spilling down her cheeks, unwilling to give voice to the last word of that sentence. Instead, she moved on. "After she shot herself, I pounced on you. I turned you over and… so much blood… you weren't breathing, and I thought I was too late. Derek called for an ambulance, and I started CPR. I went into procedural mode. It wasn't until you were breathing on your own again and we raced to the hospital that I let it all sink in."

He held her tighter than he had before. "Sammy, you saved my life."

"Jillian saved your life."

Chris shook his head. They had been best friends for years, and yet Rita still felt like she had an understated role in his life, unwilling to take credit for her heroism. She also didn't understand the depths of the feelings he had for her. He poured out his heart to her after he thought she was murdered, but that was over a year ago. Had so much happened since then to shatter her spirit and question her worth? He had been so careful with her feelings this year, he desperately wanted her to be happy, but this moment made him want to pulverize Eric's face. He took what little faith Rita had in love and shredded it.

How could Chris explain his love for her without revealing too much? He could never tell her how upset he was that she thought she was pregnant, how relieved he was that she had a medical condition that had nothing to do with Eric's presence in her life. How, for a fleeting moment, a moment drenched in guilt, he wished she was pregnant with his child. He had never felt this possessiveness over her before; it was scary but it never felt more right. Yet, it was wrong on so many levels. She trusted him; he was the only one she truly let into her world. He couldn't ruin it now.

"Rita, I would have never made it to her operating room without you. And I'm not just talking about literally saving me with CPR. I mean that your love, your friendship, that's what saved me. I'm telling you, when I woke up and saw you sleeping in that chair, I felt it all. I knew you hadn't left my side, and I knew that you had gone through even worse pain than I had."

Rita heard the 'I love you' on his lips, veiled in his passionate words of comfort and memory. And she knew it now just as she knew it then, when she saw his lifeless body in the bed of Deborah Bouchard: she was in love with him, one of the many emotions she buried when he woke up from those three nights of horror and their new reality began. Their friendship endured over the past year, but it went through the uncharted sea of synchronous significant relationships that left scars in their wake. Maybe someday she'd be brave enough to admit these feelings aloud, but not now. Not right after the train wreck she just put him through with Eric. It wasn't fair. She felt flawed, damaged, defective. He deserved a happiness she was sure she could never give him.

Right now, she selfishly needed him as her safety net, and wasn't ashamed to admit to herself that for the first time in her life, she felt the need to be rescued. By Chris, and only Chris. And yet, this complicated her feelings even further. She shook away the grey that was creeping back into her heart and tried to focus on the colors right next to her, reflected in the illuminating charm and positivity that defined Chris Lorenzo.

"Well, I'm ready to put the pain behind us. How about you?"

Chris flashed his beautiful smile at his brave and broken partner. "Absolutely. Absolutely. One last thing… to answer your earlier question, it doesn't scare me at all. You're the best partner and friend I've ever had, and I'm with you until the end. I would also lay down my life for you without hesitation. I have no regrets. Not now. Not ever."

Rita merely nodded, staring at their woven hands.

"Hey, your soup is probably frozen by now. Let me warm it up for you. You need to eat and rest."

Rita opened her mouth to respond and a yawn surprised her. Giggling, she placed her forehead to his. "I promise I'll eat in a little bit. But the rest part sounds fantastic right now."

"Do you want to go lie down?"

"No, I'm great right here. As long as you are still willing to be my pillow?"

"I'm yours for the day." For a lifetime is what he really wanted to say. He shifted his body so that Rita could get more comfortable. She turned and wrapped her arms around his waist, settling her cheek on his chest.

"I'm sure there's an old movie on, or a baseball game… watch whatever you'd like."

"Honestly, Sam, I'd rather have the quiet. Sweet dreams, sleepyhead."

Rita was drifting off quickly, but that didn't stop her from turning upwards to face him one last time. She caught his gaze and smiled, and whether it was her exhaustion, mental state, immense gratitude, or just plain love for this man, she leaned in and gave him the smallest, sweetest kiss on the lips. Before she could catch his look of surprise, she buried her face into his chest and let his heartbeat lull her to sleep.

Chris glanced down at the slumbering beauty wrapped around him, his lips still quivering from her gentle touch. Whatever that was, he was grateful. He wasn't going to overanalyze or complicate it. He knew he was the sole recipient of Rita's vulnerability, something she rarely displayed. Regardless of her motivation behind that reticent gesture, he knew he'd remember this moment for the rest of his life.

He meant it when he declared that they were closer than a married couple, closer than people in love, closer than family. What this implied for the future, he wasn't sure. However, he was glad he stayed in Palm Beach, and was content to be here, in this moment, nursing his partner back to health. He kissed the top of her head, leaned back, and closed his eyes, letting her warmth settle his confused and reflective soul.

Author's Notes:

"What's the battle about this time?"

In "Pulp Addiction" (5.01), Harry says this to our favorite duo as they fight over Rita's book. I always thought that was an interesting line that set the tone for what had perhaps been happening since we last saw them, as well as foreshadowed the conflicts we witnessed between them throughout several episodes of Season Five. The juxtaposition of this with the sweet, endearing final scene of "Into the Fire" where they are rekindling their friendship, led me down this road. The love was there in "Into the Fire", and I feel that they spent several episodes of S5 navigating their palpable confusion over platonic versus romantic love, neither wanting to risk their friendship (until Partners, Part 1 of course) ? I had to add that little kiss at the end, to set up potential conflict over those months after 4.22.

*I debated whether to make this an additional chapter to Pieces, or publish it as a stand alone story. Once I hit the 5K word mark, I decided that it needed its own zip code on the fan site lol.

* Also, I am stating, for the record, that I am officially done with my obsession over the Bouchard shooting. I am putting it to rest. I'm rolling eyes at myself at this point!