Title: The Rules of the Game (9/?)

Author: X_tremeroswellian

Email: X_tremeroswellian@yahoo.com

Disclaimer: Only in my dreams do I actually own anything. All are property of Edward Allen Bernero and John Wells.

Rating: PG-13 for language, violence and sexual content

Spoilers: Up through and including "233 Days."

Summary: Bosco and Faith find themselves in a predicament in which they can use only their instincts to survive.

Distribution: My site Only Time, 55-HQ, and fanfiction.net. Others, just ask and I'll probably say yes.

Category: Story

Subcategories: Action/adventure/thriller/suspense/romance/friendship/drama/angst...does that narrow it down too much? *wink wink*

Feedback: Makes me write faster.

Author's Note: I sort of got this idea from a third season episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. But just for the very general plot idea. The rest came out of my own messed up mind. :)

Author's Note II: Sorry it took so long to get this part out. I had to have two wisdom teeth pulled and wasn't really in the mood to work on fic for awhile.

Dedication: For Dem and Bree

The Rules of the Game (Part Nine)

"You ready?" Sully asked Davis silently as they stood outside the door to the basement of the abandoned paper factory with their guns drawn.

Davis nodded, tightening his grip on his weapon.

Sully went through the door first, spotting Chevchinko almost instantly. "Police! Put your hands in the air!" he shouted.

Chevchinko turned around with a sigh, putting his hands in the air. "Officer Sullivan. What a nice surprise."

He glared at the man. "You won't think so when I get through with you, you son of a bitch."

Chevchinko raised an eyebrow. "I thought we had a deal. You stay away from my family, I stay away from yours."

"Yeah, well, you broke that little agreement when you took two of my friends to be victims of your sick little game," Sully said angrily, pointing his gun at the man. "Where are they, Chevchinko?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Chevchinko replied innocently.

Sully cocked his gun. "Really? Does this help you remember?"

"Sully," Davis warned, his voice quiet.

"What?"

"If you kill him now, we may never find them."

Sully stared at Chevchinko for a long moment. "He's not going to tell us anything anyway. Are you?"

Chevchinko shrugged. "How can I tell you what I do not know?"

"I know your game, Chevchinko. I know all about it. And I know that you're behind what happened to Bosco and Yokas."

"Officer Yokas?" Chevchinko repeated, a slight smile on his face. "Why would I do anything to her? She's a lovely woman. A bit rude, but lovely."

Sully clenched his jaw, moved a step closer to the man. "You better hope that we find them and they are both all right. Because if they're not, you're going to be very sorry."

"I hope you do find them." Chevchinko paused, his smile widening a bit. "How is your lovely wife Tatiana? Or should I say... Natasha?"

Sully's eyes darkened. "Wrong thing to say, old man."

Bosco stared down at his reflection in the river. He had been standing there for a long time. He wasn't even sure how long. But then again, it didn't matter.

Nothing mattered, not anymore.

Faith was dead.

//"I saw it happen. She was shot. There was blood everywhere..."//

His tears shattered his reflection in the water, blurring it.

His mind flashed through memories like he was turning the pages of a photo album.

//"Wow, look at you."
"Do I look like a waiter?"
"You look like James Bond."//

//"Do you really think it's hereditary? The violence? You think when I'm married I'm gonna beat my wife?"
"I don't think it has to be that way. Not if you don't want it to be."

//"I have cancer."
"What?"
"It was in my breast, but... I've been getting radiation treatments, you know to make sure that it doesn't come back. I should've told you sooner. But I thought I could work and handle it and... then today I got nauseus from one of the pain pills and uh...I didn't back you up. And that bullet could've missed your vest..."
"Just stop. All the things we've learned that we can't control in this world and you're gonna surprise me with this."
"I just didn't want to be dumping my stuff on anybody."
"It's me, Faith. It's me. I'm not *anybody*."//

//"Don't do that again."
"I'll tell you everything."
"No, don't get sick again."//

//"I was worried about you."
"You should have come to me."
"I tried."
"When?"//

//"Bosco, you were probably in shock."
"Faith, I ran. God help me, I ran."
"Bosco."
"I ran."
"It's okay. It's okay, it's okay. It's all right."//

//"Hey, Faith."
"Yeah?"
"I'm glad you're here."
"What?"
"With me. I mean, instead of someone else."
"Yeah, well, you're stuck with me, so that's good."
"I mean it, Faith."
"I'd rather be stuck with you than anyone else, too, Boz."//

"I am so sorry, Faith," he whispered, squeezing his eyes shut tightly. "This is all my fault. It should've been me."

"Bosco?"

He froze, the breath catching in his throat. He opened his eyes and turned around slowly. "Faith," he whispered, staring at her.

"Thank God I found you. I've been looking everywhere. I was worried sick."

Bosco couldn't move, couldn't take his eyes off of her. He wasn't sure if she was really standing there just a few feet from him or if he was dreaming.

She frowned and moved closer to him. "Bosco, are you all right? You look like you've seen a ghost." When he didn't respond, she grew more worried. "Are you okay?"

"He said you were dead," he whispered.

"Who did?"

"Danny... was here... he said he saw you get shot, that you were..." He swallowed hard, unable to finish his words.

Her eyes widened slightly. "He must have seen someone else."

He didn't answer, just continued to stare at her, burning the image of her face further into his mind.

"Bosco, I'm okay. I'm fine. He made a mistake."

"I thought..."

Faith reached up and gently touched his face. "I'm right here, Boz. I'm okay," she told him, her voice soft.

Wordlessly he grabbed her, pulled her to him and pressed his lips to hers, kissing her deeply. He felt her arms wrap around his waist as she returned the kiss. His fingers tangled in her hair.

It wasn't enough. He needed to get closer, to feel her, to make himself believe that she was really there with them, that she was alive and safe. He dropped his hands to her shoulders, gripping onto the collar of the one-sleeved, long-sleeved blue jean shirt tightly. He stopped kissing her just long enough to push the shirt off her shoulders, remembering just in time to be careful of the wound on her arm.

He tugged gently and let the scrap of clothing fall to the ground as he started kissing her again. He wrapped his arms around her waist, dropping down to his knees and pulling her down with him without breaking their kiss.

Threading his fingers through her hair again, he tilted her head back slightly as his lips left hers, trailing kisses down to her neck, to her shoulders, unable to get enough of her.

"Bosco..." she whimpered, her hands curling around his shoulders.

He lifted his face to hers again, kissing her lips once more as he propelled them backwards, pulling her down so she was sprawled out on top of him as they kissed.

"I thought I lost you," he whispered between kisses.

"Nice try, but you're not that lucky," she murmured.

"Thank God," Bosco said back, sliding his hands underneath her shirt, feeling the bare skin of her back and pulling her closer to him, close enough so that he could feel her heart beating against his chest. His thumbs gently traced the outline of her ribs and she shivered against him, lowering her lips to his neck.

Bosco pressed a kiss against her forehead, refusing to close his eyes as he watched her. God, she was beautiful. Not drop dead supermodel gorgeous, but beautiful in a natural, real way that he had always found very appealing. He raised his hands to cup her face, brought her mouth down to meet his again.

Never in a million years would he have thought that kissing Faith Yokas would--could--make him feel this way. It was like jumping off that waterfall all over again, except this time he wasn't falling. He was flying.

A shot rang out through the air.

Faith jerked away from him, startled as she sat up abruptly, looking around. "That sounded really close." She looked down at him with wide eyes.

He nodded his agreement, trying to force his brain to work. "We should probably run."

She stood up, reached her hand down and pulled him to his feet.

Bosco interlaced his fingers with hers and squeezed her hand. "This way we don't get separated again," he said meeting her eyes. Faith nodded and he leaned forward, kissing her once more -- a brief, but passionate kiss -- before they began to run.

"You're under arrest," Davis said, his voice low and calm as he looked at Chevchinko.

"Under arrest? I have done nothing wrong."

"Kidnapping and murder are federal offenses in this country. And in case you didn't know, stalking is illegal, too," Sully said darkly, his eyes full of hatred.

"Save it for the judge," Davis replied, keeping his voice cool.

"It won't get that far, Officer," Chevchinko replied.

He heard the footsteps behind him and quickly turned, aiming his gun at the man who had a gun held on him. "Drop it!"

The man slowly lowered his weapon.

"That's it. Nice and easy. Put it on the ground," he commanded. Out of his peripherel vision, he saw Chevchinko move. "Sully! Look out!"

Sully spun around in time to see Chevchinko pulling a gun out of his jacket. Without hesitation, he took aim and fired.

Chevchinko stumbled backwards, the gun clattering to the ground. A look of shock passed over the man's face before he fell down, a large red stain spreading over his chest.

Davis quickly pulled out his handcuffs and cuffed the other man to a large machine in the corner of the room. He moved over to his partner, who was towering above Chevchinko, who was breathing shallowly. "Sully. You okay?"

He nodded slowly, not lifting his gaze from the man he shot.

"Should I call for a bus?"

"Not yet." Sully glared down at him coldly. "That was for my wife." He spat on him. "And that's for Faith and Bosco."

Davis remained silent, not completely sure what he should do.

Sully reach for his radio. "This is 55-Charlie to Central. We need a bus to the abandoned paper factory on Cantrell and Minister."

"10-4, 55-Charlie. Bus is on the way."

Chevchinko choked on his own blood, turning his head to the side.

"Rot in hell, you no good son of a bitch," Sully whispered.

The older man looked up at him one last time before his head fell back limply.

Davis knelt down and pressed his fingers to the man's throat. He looked up at Sully. "He's dead."

"Good." Without another word, Sully turned and walked out of the room to go and wait for the ambulance to arrive.

"I can't go any farther."

Bosco stopped and turned around, taking the moment to catch his breath. "You don't have a choice, Faith. Come on," he urged. He could hear the dogs barking off in the distance.

She shook her head and leaned against the trunk of a large oak tree. "I can't. Just go on." She waved her hand at him.

"Yeah, right," he replied sarcastically.

Faith looked at him, beads of sweat glistening on her forehead. "Bosco, just go."

"I am not leaving you here," he said firmly. He walked over to her, wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her forward. "Come on. We have to keep moving."

For several long moments, all Bosco could hear was the crunching of leaves and twigs as the two of them moved through the dense forest. Then there was another sound, soft at first.

She stopped, grabbed his arm. "Do you hear that?"

He could see the fear in her eyes and it made him nervous. It wasn't a sight he was used to seeing. "Yeah. It sounds like--"

"A horse," she finished.

"Come on. We gotta get out of here," Bosco said urgently.

"Yeah, but which way is it coming from?"

He paused momentarily. She had a point. In the woods it was easy to get disoriented and it was hard to decipher what direction one particular noise was coming from. He turned in a full circle, then nodded uncertainly to their right. "Let's go that way."

Faith nodded and started to follow him. They walked quickly for a short distance.

The noise was getting closer. He could hear the sound of hoofbeats galloping through the foliage. He glanced at her sideways. "Run!"

She didn't have to be told twice.

Bosco hoped to God there weren't anymore traps hidden under the dead leaves, but at the moment, he was more worried by the thought of the horseback rider catching up to them.

He heard Faith cry out from behind him, and he immediately turned. He saw that she was lying on the ground, clutching her ankle. Shit, he thought as he rushed to her side. "You okay?"

She looked up at him, her face contorted with pain. He could tell she was trying not to cry. "I think it's sprained."

He closed his eyes momentarily, then opened them again, looking around. His gaze settled back on her. "Can you walk?"

Faith swallowed hard. "I don't know."

He held his hand out and pulled her to her feet. He saw the look of pain flash over her face, though she tried her best to suppress it.

"I don't think so, Boz," she said, shaking her head as she leaned back against the nearest tree, keeping her weight on her other foot.

He hesitated only a moment. "Put your arms around my neck."

"What?" Faith asked, frowning in confusion.

"I'm gonna carry you. Put your arms around my neck."

She shook her head in refusal. "Forget it. You're just gonna have to go on without me."

"Like hell," Bosco replied, taking a step toward her.

"Bosco, I'll just slow you down. This way at least one of us has a chance of making it out of here."

"I'm not leaving you here, Faith, so forget it!"

"There's no reason for both of us to get caught," she argued.

"If you get caught, so do I. Deal with it," Bosco told her, knowing without a doubt that if the situation was reversed, she wouldn't leave his side.

Before she had a chance to respond, the whinny of a horse pierced the air. He turned to see a big man on the animal's back, just yards away from them.

"Oh, fuck," he said under his breath. There was no time to run and no place to hide. This is it, he thought. They'd survived for four days and now they were going to be caught.

"Bosco," she whispered fearfully, her hand clutching his arm tightly.

He turned to look at her, emotions crashing over him. There was so much he wanted to say to her. "I'm really sorry," he whispered.

"Me, too," she whispered back.

Bosco reached out and gently touched her face, tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. A wave of fear surged through him and he turned to see the man on the horse galloping toward them. He didn't even care at this point what happened to him. But he was terrified of what would happen to Faith. He stepped in front of her protectively, glaring at the man as he stopped the horse only a couple feet away from them.

The man grinned, looking down the barrel of his shotgun at them. "Well, well, well. Lookie what I found."