A/N: Sorry for the delay, my readers! I needed to decide the direction/how to end this one. S5 has some great STRIS scenes at the beginning and then there is a lapse and then it gives our beloved Chris her send-off. I've always felt like there were things going on behind the scenes for our couple, foreshadowing Luca's comment "You used to come by all the time" and in Chris' epic speech she says, "Can we please give this another try." (Meaning something happened, and they tried before?).

Enjoy this chapter as I 'fill in the blanks' of S5. Warnings for angst, language, and sexual situations. Spoilers for 'Safe House', 'Survive', and 'Short Fuse'.

"Thanks for driving and – uh – giving me space earlier."

"I'm always there for you."

I'd been feeling helpless ever since this case with Jenni started and I'd taken it out on Street earlier, lashing out in frustration on the one person I knew could take it and not hold it against me later.

The simple fact of the matter was that I was growing increasingly restless, and I had yet to pinpoint the cause. If I was being honest with myself, I could pinpoint the source back to Erika's death, which was still so pointless and still hurt so much over a year later.

I climbed out of Street's car and handed my card to Mama Pina, telling her that my personal number was on the back and to call me first the next time she needed anything. When she agreed, I felt a bit of the weight lift. I turned back and saw that Street was watching me from the car, a slight smile on his face.

"I have to go-"

Mama Pina looked past me and smiled. "Yes, your young man is waiting for you-"

I shook my head and answered her in Spanish, in the off chance our voices carried, and he could hear us. "He's not my – we work together – that's all."

The older woman's mouth twisted in a half smile. "Don't try to fool an old woman, Christina. I know love when I see it."

I ignored her comments on my private life and changed the subject. "I'll call later this week and see how things are going – ok?"

"Okay."

I walked back to the car and got in, shutting the door with a little more force than necessary.

"Everything okay?"

"Fine."

"Chris-"

"Street!" I snapped, turning to look at him and swallowing hard when I saw the loving concern in his eyes. "Just – drive."

"Okay." He turned the key and the engine roared to life. "Where to?"

"Home – take me home."

I'm going to die out here – and Street will never know how much I –

Deacon had been shocked when I agreed to go on the security transport with him – and to be honest, I had agreed without really thinking it through. I was still feeling restless, and I was hoping that a couple days away from LA would help get my head on straight. I knew that we were still at odds over how emotionally invested I had become during the case with Mama Pina, but the bottom line was we were friends, and I didn't want our relationship to be damaged by work.

I had no idea how south things would go, but I will say that even though Miguel presented himself as an easy-going, likeable businessman, there was something off about him. That feeling only intensified when we were run off the road and the bullets began to fly and we had to fight for our lives, trying to save the man who had lied to us from the very beginning.

Hours later when I was trying to set traps and barricade us in an old, abandoned town's saloon, Miguel asked me what I thought about at times like this.

"Do you think about your family – about what they'll do without you?"

"Worst case scenarios don't work for me."

Street's smiling face flashed in my mind, and I winced, driving the door lock harder into the ground. I couldn't afford to think about him now – about my feelings – about us. About all the things that could be but might never be if I didn't make it out of here alive.

I fought to survive out there in the desert town with my last breath – and nearly didn't make it back. In the end, it was Street's face – his eyes – his dimples- his mouth – that I focused on when one of Rafa's men grabbed my leg in an iron grip and twisted hard. I felt the snap clear up to my skull and for a few minutes afterwards, I thought it was broken. I remember kneeling in the dirt beside Rafa as he demanded Miguel show himself or I would be killed. I screamed for him to stay hidden, but Miguel wouldn't let me die and he came out into the open.

But then the cavalry arrived, and all hell broke loose as the bullets began flying everywhere. Miguel and I took cover – I punched the thug closest to me and limped inside a building to wait it out. Leaning against the rough wood, I listened to the gunfire and for once was glad not to be participating as I rested all my weight on my uninjured leg. I saw Street running down the dirt road towards me and I opened the door, limping out onto the porch.

"Good to see you."

I could read the relief in his eyes through his tactical gear. "We got here as soon as we could." He reached out and took the gun from my hands. "Come here-" he lifted my arm around his shoulders. "I've got you."

I sank into his body as we began a slow walk toward our team. "I knew you'd come-" I cleared my throat. "The team – I knew the team would get here-"

"Oh my God, Chris!" Luca yelled as he appeared at my side, swinging my other arm around his shoulder and I felt my feet leave the ground for a moment. "What the hell did those bastards do to you? Is it broken?" He swung a hand in the direction of my leg.

I gritted my teeth. "I don't think so – I can bear weight on it – see?" I tried to put my foot on the ground and both of them protested.

"Chris!"

"Stop that!"

I sighed and allowed them to continue to half carry me toward the helicopter. I guess it was okay to feel like a damsel in distress once in a while.

The pounding on my door woke me from the light doze I had fallen into since I had gotten home from the hospital. I knew without looking in the peephole who it was, so after hobbling over on my crutches, I simply opened the door and said,

"Hello, Street. Do come in."

He stormed past me, turning once he was inside to fix his cold blue laser beam stare at me. "I can't believe you checked yourself out against the doctor's advice and without calling any of us to pick you up – what the hell, Chris! Nearly dying out in the desert wasn't enough for you. You wanted to risk your life driving across LA in rush hour traffic with a broken leg-"

"It's not broken-"

"Oh, pardon me – a simple hairline fracture. Is that better?"

"Much, thank you."

I swung past him on my crutches and carefully lowered myself back onto the couch. "Well – since you're here – a little help?" I motioned to my leg and then the couch.

He crossed his arms. "You're the one who checked herself out – because you don't need help – because you think you can do it all yourself – so do it."

"Fine." I placed my hands on the cushions, on either side of my hips and pushed down, as I tried to lift my leg up – but with the added weight of the brace and the pain of the injury it was too much – I couldn't do it, I couldn't get my leg high enough. Tears flooded my eyes, and I gritted my teeth as I flexed my leg muscle once – twice – but nothing happened.

"Damn it, Chris!" Street exploded in frustration as he crossed the room, leaned down and scooped me up in his arms.

"What are you doing?" I gasped as my hands wrapped around his neck.

"Helping one of the most stubborn, infuriatingly beautiful women I've ever known to get some rest – which I wouldn't have to do if you had just stayed put."

I swallowed the emotion as well as the angry retort that I didn't need his help because it was so obvious that I did. He walked into my bedroom and placed me on top of my bed, then he bent to remove my boots before gently swinging my legs up onto the mattress. I grit my teeth at the pain, hoping he wouldn't notice, but of course he did.

"Where's your pain meds?"

"In the kitchen-" I caught his hand as he turned to leave. "I don't want them- I just want some Aleve."

He frowned at me. "You're sure? The pain meds will help you sleep."

I shook my head. "I don't like how they make me feel – and they don't help, not really. Aleve is fine."

He squeezed my hand before letting go and left the room to get my pills and I closed my eyes, letting myself doze again. I don't know if he let me sleep but it felt like I had been asleep for a while before the touch of his fingers on my cheek woke me.

"I'm sorry, but you were beginning to groan in your sleep. I think you need to take something now."

I blinked and stirred, then groaned as the pain registered. It was intense – definitely a nine out of ten. "Okay," I whispered.

He helped me sit up a bit, his arm around my shoulders as I swallowed a couple Aleve with a glass of water and then laid back down. Once again, I caught his hand as he got up to leave.

"Stay."

"You're in pain, Chris. I'm just in the next room, promise."

I shook my head slightly on the pillow, and even that movement caused me pain. "I need you to stay beside me – please?"

He nodded slowly, seeming to understand that I was incapable of asking for more at this point. He set the empty glass on my nightstand and then slowly stretched out next to me, making no move to hold me, but I could feel the heat of his body next to mine. I sighed and turned my face slightly in his direction, seeking his touch. After a few minutes, he lifted his hand and began to run his fingers through my hair, smoothing the stiff strands, the massage soothing and at the same time sensual.

"You were all I could think about," I whispered.

"Hmm?"

I opened my eyes and looked at him. "Miguel asked me if I thought about my family – when I thought I was going to die – about how much my family would- "

"Hush, Chris. Go to sleep."

But I knew if I didn't say it, I never would. The pain was excruciating, but focusing on him, on how I'd almost died without telling him, was getting me through it.

"I lied."

"What?"

"I lied – to Miguel. Out there – when Rafa's man broke my leg – when I thought I was going to die – it was you, Street. Not my aunt Helena – or my Uncle Sarzo – or my cousins – just you."

His hand slid from my hair to cup my cheek. "It's always been you, Chris."

"I know."

I lifted my face just a couple of inches and this time it was Street's lips that met mine first. I wanted nothing more than to lose myself in him, but my fears were still present, and the physical pain was holding me back as well. He sensed this and kept our contact brief, giving me a series a short, sweet kisses before finally giving me one last kiss on the forehead.

"Go to sleep now."

My eyes fluttered open to meet his. "Stay."

His dimples flashed at me. "I'll be here when you wake up."

I opened the text message from Street and sighed at the mouth-watering burger that stared up at me. But it was the words of the message that stabbed me in the heart: Sorry. Can't wait forever. Was he referring to the burger – or us – or both?

I had been pushing him away again for the past three months. He had taken such good care of me after my near-death experience with Deacon in the desert and I had come so close to expressing how much I cared for him. But as soon as I was back on my feet and the pain was manageable, I reverted to my old ways and pushed him back into the 'friend' zone, claiming the old excuse of no fraternizing between team members.

Bottom line: I was scared. I knew now that I'd never been in love before – not really. What I'd felt for Kira a couple of years ago paled in comparison to the intense emotion I felt for Street – it was like comparing apples and oranges. And I couldn't lose him like I lost Erika. I had barely survived her death and he had played a huge role in that survival. If I lost him, if he died in the line of duty, and therefore wasn't here to help me pick up the pieces, I knew I would spiral into a dark place that I would never come out of – I knew that sounded melodramatic, but it was true.

I was in love with Jim Street, and I could never tell him.

I wiped the sweat from the palms of my hands on my jeans and knocked on his door, relieved to see that once again, Luca's truck wasn't parked in the driveway.

Street opened the door, wearing only a pair of sweats, his skin glistening with water and his hair wet. "Sorry – you been waiting long? I just got out of the shower-"

I swallowed the desire that rose inside of me. Damn it, Street. Put some clothes on!

"You always answer your door half-naked?" I teased as I brushed past him into the living room, ignoring the rush I felt passing so close to his body.

He chuckled. "It keeps the neighborhood entertained. Mrs. Notts – our neighbor two doors down? She has a pair of binoculars – strictly for birdwatching, she says, but she's also looking for a boyfriend for her daughter, so-" he shrugged and grinned.

I rolled my eyes. "I thought you were looking for a serious relationship-"

"I am – who says you can't find what you're looking for right under your nose?"

I cleared my throat and changed the subject. "So, you have any leftovers?"

"Oh, that's why you came over – hoping to mooch off me."

"No-"

"You know, you were supposed to buy me a burger – and instead I ended up paying for my own as well as being stood up-"

"It wasn't a date, Street," I snapped.

"Did I say it was a date?"

"Well, it sure sounds like you thought it was! Using words like 'I stood you up' and 'you were supposed to buy me a burger'."

Street folded his arms across his bare chest. "Haven't you ever bought your friend a meal or baled on them at the last minute because something else came up?"

"I – uh – I guess so."

He shrugged. "That's all I meant – I know it wasn't a date – you've made it pretty clear that we can't-"

I took a step towards him, interrupting. "What if I wanted it to be?"

His hands fell to his sides. "Don't do this."

"Do what?"

"Run hot and cold – tell me you want a date and then take it back. Chris," he took a deep breath. "I've told you I can't do this half relationship thing with you. We've been dancing around this thing – us – for over a year now. I can't do it anymore."

I closed the remaining space between us. "So, let's stop the dance." I wound my arms around his neck and crashed my lips to his. This hadn't been my plan when I'd come over tonight. All I'd wanted to do was talk to my friend about my day with Marta and the frustrations over immigration court, maybe share some of his leftovers. Instead, he'd answered the door shirtless, and my damn libido had taken over and for once, I was going to shut off my brain and damn the consequences.

Street's arms wrapped around me, and I felt my feet leave the ground as he pulled me into the most intense embrace we'd ever shared. Our lips only parted long enough to get short breaths of air before we were back to devouring each other and soon I was bare from the waist up as well. He had slowly maneuvered us toward his bedroom door as his hands caressed every bare inch of my skin he could reach.

But suddenly I was cold as he shoved me against a wall and backed away, wiping my kisses from his lips.

"No, not like this."

"Street-"

"Stop, Chris. Just stop. You're not thinking – you just want a quick fuck with me to get this out of your system."

I shook my head, the tears running down my cheeks. "That's not true."

"Then talk to me. Tell me what happens when we wake up tomorrow in my bed after making love all night long. How are we going to make our relationship work? Are you going to transfer to another team, or am I? Are you ready to deal with the backlash and the gossip from the boys' club? Are you ready to go all in with me – because once I make love to you, that's it for me. I'm committed to making it work between us."

"Street, I – you know it's not as simple as you want to make it-"

He backed up another step, shaking his head. "That's where you're wrong – where you've always been wrong. This thing between us – it's as simple as you want it to be. You're the one who's making it complicated." He looked around and bent down to pick something off the floor only to thrust it towards me.

It was my bra and long-sleeved shirt. I caught the items one handed and clutched them to my chest, hiding my nakedness. "Can't we talk about this – about what almost happened?"

He shook his head. "Why? There's always been an attraction between us, Chris – we both know that – but I want more –"

I forced the words past vocal cords that felt like tight bow strings. "How much more?"

"More than one night."

I slipped my shirt on and stuffed the bra in my pocket, trying to hold back the trembling that had started as I realized there was more than one way I could lose Street.

"I don't know if I can – I mean – I want to – but-"

"I know." He nodded. "Let's take the pressure off for tonight, okay? I got you a burger – it's in the fridge. Take it home, eat it and get some sleep. I'm going to bed now."

"Street?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks."

"For what – a burger?"

I shook my head. "For having the strength to put the brakes on tonight – I think – I think we would have regretted it."

His shoulders slumped as he turned to his room. "Good night, Chris."

A/N: These two kill me! Lock 'em in a room already! :) Just one or two more chapters to go in this story. Drop me a line - Reviews are LOVE!

What does everyone think of the new season without our girl? I really miss Lina/Chris.