This is set about a year after Lassie Did a Bad Bad Thing.

CW: Bad guy's a creep with touching and implied threats of more.

Prompt: Gun to temple


Buzz whistled as he climbed out of his truck, looking forward to spending time with his wife. It had been a long day, with a double murder and a decade's worth of records to sort through. But the Chief had decided to call in Psych, Francine had texted saying she was making meatloaf, and he was expecting a new DVD from Netflix in their mailbox. All-in-all it was shaping up to be a good, relaxing evening.

He walked next to their apartment building's swimming pool and smiled at it fondly before bending down to check their mailbox. Maybe he could convince Francine to go swimming tonight. And she could break out her red bikini, and put her hair up in a messy bun, and she'd give him the cutest pouty lip when he splashed her… Buzz's grin grew as he saw the large red envelope wedged into their box. Cuddling on the couch with a cute movie would be nice too. With Francine pressed up against him, her bare feet tucked in under their thick couch blanket, a shared bowl of popcorn between them. Maybe some wine afterwards…

There was a definite bounce in his step as he made his way to their apartment. It was practically guaranteed to be a good night.

"Honey, I'm home!" Buzz called out cheerfully as he tossed their mail onto the table next to the door. The smell of something burning just made him smile fonder as he walked through the living room. Sometimes his wife would get so caught up in a new project, she'd forget everything else she'd been doing beforehand. She was always flustered and embarrassed by it, but he thought her intense focus on something she cared about was one of the most perfect things about her.

"Do we need to order pizza tonight?" he asked as he turned the corner to enter the kitchen. All thoughts of a good evening fled his mind as he saw his wife sitting at the kitchen table, with an older man standing behind her. His hand automatically came up to grab his gun; Francine was in trouble.

"Nuh-uh-uh…" The man behind Francine tutted as he pressed his gun further into her temple. Francine looked at Buzz pleadingly, her eyes wide and scared over a thick white strip of cloth tied over her mouth. "Hands up, unless you want her brains to be decorating your wall."

Buzz swallowed thickly and slowly let go of his gun, lifting his hands up to show he wasn't a threat. Detective Lassiter could have probably made the shot, drawing so fast that the bad guy wouldn't even know what hit him before he was down. But Buzz could never be that fast, and he couldn't take the risk with Francine's life at stake.

"Ah, that's the joy of working with subordinates; they always do as they're told," the man said as his other hand reached around Francine's shoulder and began to toy with the ends of her long, red hair.

Francine twitched, but her hands stayed behind her back, and Buzz fought the urge to spring forward to yank the bad guy away from her. How dare he touch her? Instead, he forced himself to channel Detective O'Hara's calmness as he asked, "Who are you, and what do you want?"

The man smiled with cold eyes and continued to play with Francine's hair as he answered, "Who I am isn't important. What I want is for you to run a few errands for me. Nothing you can't handle. After all, you're used to following orders."

"If I do what you want, what happens to us?" Buzz asked carefully. He knew better than to ask what would happen if he refused. The gun to Francine's head answered that question already.

"Why, I let you two go. Of course." The man's grin grew as he continued. "Once my tasks are done, I'll leave you two in a trunk to be found in a day or two. By the time anyone knows to look for me, I'll be long gone." He looked Buzz up and down. "I'm afraid it might be a bit of a tighter fit than I'd intended. My god you're a giant."

Buzz ignored the comment on his height; it wasn't anything he hadn't heard before. He also knew better than to take the word of a criminal holding his wife hostage. He wasn't smart, but he wasn't stupid either. He'd seen the man's face. Things weren't looking good for them.

It wasn't like he had any choice at the moment though. Buzz kept an eye on the gun as he asked, "What, exactly, do you want me to do?"

"Well, this is a bit awkward," the bad guy stated, not sounding at all embarrassed, "but at the moment I just need you to wait. Timing is such a fickle thing… Speaking of, why don't you go get that meatloaf out of the oven, I'm afraid this lovely lady became a bit preoccupied before it could be taken out…"

The man ran his thumb along Francine's jawline and Buzz stepped forward before he could stop himself. "Don't touch her!"

The man's smile disappeared, and his eyes bored into Buzz's as he let his hand drop to rest lightly around Francine's throat. "I don't think you're the one who's supposed to be giving the orders around here."

Buzz froze, his voice shaking as he raised his hands higher in surrender. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Please don't hurt her."

"Better." The bad guy narrowed his eyes and kept his hand in place. "We're going to be working together for a bit, so let me explain how this will go. I tell you what to do, you do it. If I'm not telling you what to do, then I expect you to stay quiet and out of my way until you're needed again." He lifted his hand to gently run his knuckles under Francine's chin. "This pretty little thing will stay with me, to ensure you do as you're told. Any questions?"

Buzz's mind was racing; there had to be something clever he could say that would get Francine away from the bad guy. Shawn would probably know it. But the only thing he could think to ask was, "What do I call you?"

"Oh, cute, you think you can empathize with me by using my name," the bad guy said with a smirk. The smile grew as he said, "You can call me 'Sir' if you'd like."

Buzz watched and waited. Was he supposed to say something to that? It was hardly the worst thing the bad guy could have asked to be called. The man's smile faded slightly at the lack of reaction, and he sighed while telling Francine, "Some people just don't have any sense of humor, do they? Very well… Call me Nick if you must."

Buzz nodded, still not sure if he was allowed to talk. The bad gu- Nick had said he was supposed to be quiet if he hadn't been told to do anything, after all. He looked over at the oven; was he still supposed to get the burning meatloaf out? He'd follow orders all night if it bought him enough time to find a way to save Francine.

"Really?" Nick sounded almost put out as he watched Buzz. "You're not going to tell me 'Let her go and I'll do whatever you want' or 'You don't want to do this' or 'If you cooperate this'll go easier on you'... You're just going to do what I say?"

"Would any of those work?" Buzz asked. He'd willingly beg if it would save Francine.

"Of course not, but I did have some expectations…" Nick sighed. "Ah well, I guess that's the downside of going after an officer instead of a detective."

Buzz didn't bother reacting; he was proud to be part of the team that took down bad guys like Nick. The detectives wouldn't be able to do their jobs if there weren't people like him doing the grunt work. And he was good at the grunt work.

Nick rolled his eyes again. "I suppose I should thank you; I did get ahead of myself after all. You're going to use two fingers to take out your gun, put it on the floor, then kick it towards me."

Buzz nodded reassuringly towards Francine as he slowly reached down to pinch the grip of his gun, pulling it out of its holster and bending down to place it on the floor. He kicked it towards Nick and winced as the gun skittered off at an angle to end up under the table instead. He'd never been very good at soccer.

Nick gave him an unimpressed look before grumbling, "I guess I'll have to do it myself." He wrapped his arm around Francine's neck and dug the gun further into her head as he ordered, "Down on your knees, hands behind your head."

Buzz did as he was told, lacing his fingers together behind his head as he knelt on their kitchen floor. Nick shook his head slightly, "Dear lord, that just makes you normal height…" Buzz sank down to sit on his heels; hopefully the extra loss of height would make the bad guy happier. He was rewarded by Nick grumbling and letting go of Francine before stalking over to the table and reaching for Buzz's gun.

Buzz eyed up the distance between them; this could be the point where he was supposed to spring up and surprise Nick, being reckless and unpredictable like Shawn and Gus. But he'd been put on his knees for a reason; it would take a few seconds before he could start moving properly, and he couldn't be reckless with Francine in the room. If he was going to make a move, he had to know for certain that it was going to work.

Nick stood back up, tucking the gun into the back of his pants and looking at Buzz thoughtfully. "I don't think you even considered the idea of jumping me… interesting. Stay there, I'll take care of the oven."

The bad guy walked to the oven and bent down, keeping his head turned slightly to keep Buzz in his sight. Buzz ignored him and met Francine's eyes, mouthing, 'It's going to be ok.'

Francine took a deep breath and nodded, still clearly afraid but trying to control it. Buzz smiled slightly; god he loved her.

"I'm afraid meatloaf is off the menu for tonight," Nick said as he plopped the burnt food onto the counter, "but at least we won't be smoking the entire apartment up."

He smiled, as though they should be thanking him for his consideration, before sitting down at the table next to Francine. He opened up a laptop that Buzz hadn't noticed earlier and began to type.

Buzz's knees were starting to ache and his hands were starting to tingle as he sat unmoving, waiting to see what he was supposed to do next. Waiting wasn't usually very hard for him, but it was much different when he had to wait while there was an armed criminal sitting right next to his wife.

A quiet jingling broke the silence and a small calico cat trotted into the room, looking around expectantly at the humans who were supposed to have given her food by now. She made herself unignorable as she walked straight to Buzz and started rubbing up against his legs.

Nick looked up and raised an eyebrow as he watched the cat grace them with her presence, and Buzz shifted slightly to nudge her with his knee. "Sorry, Little Girl Cat, not now."

Little Girl Cat gave him a haughty look before stretching and slowly walking away, looking back to make sure he knew clearly that it was her idea to move, not his. Buzz glanced back at Nick and realized the bad guy had almost the exact same look on his face. Nick raised an eyebrow before asking, "You… named your cat Little Girl Cat."

"Well, when she was given to us her name was Little Boy Cat," Buzz started to explain, "but she's a she, so-"

"Please stop talking." Nick rubbed his forehead as though Buzz's life was giving him a headache.

The seconds seemed to crawl by, and Buzz found himself remembering another time he'd been held at gunpoint, though that time the gun had actually been aimed at him. Little Girl Cat has been there that time too and had actually helped bring down the killer.

They'd just signed the lease for this apartment when that had happened, right before their wedding. This apartment was also where he'd nearly been blown up a year ago. And now there was an armed criminal sitting in their apartment's kitchen… It was entirely possible that this apartment was cursed. Detective Lassiter was right; it was a good idea to move every two years. Just in case.

Nick typed one more thing with a flourish and let out a satisfied sigh before reaching down for the laptop bag next to him. "We're all ready now. You are going to wear this," he pulled out a small earpiece and slid it towards Buzz, "and I'm going to talk you through everything you're going to do."

Buzz reached down and picked up the small device, realizing it looked like a bluetooth headset. He fit it into his ear and shook his head slightly, making sure it would stay in place.

"Can you hear me?" Nick asked through his own headset. At Buzz's nod, Nick continued, "Good. You are going to go back to your precinct and you're going to take out some evidence for me."

Buzz couldn't believe his ears, and he felt hope bubbling up even as he nodded his understanding. He might not be able to say anything at the station with Nick listening in, but he could still write a note and bring back help.

He tried to keep his face neutral, but realized he'd probably failed when Nick smirked at him before dramatically spinning the laptop so Buzz could see the screen. The hope died as fast as it had appeared as Buzz stared at the small boxes of videos showing the different security cameras in the precinct, starting outside on the steps and going all the way into the actual evidence lock-up room.

"As you can see, I'll be able to keep a close eye on you." Nick dropped a hand down, and Francine flinched as he ran his hand over her knee. "I'm sure I don't need to remind you what happens if you try anything."

Buzz shook his head before taking a shaky breath and saying, "If I do this, you don't touch her."

"That is the general idea, yes. You do what I say, I don't hurt her," Nick said, like he was explaining something to a child.

Buzz's eyes never left the fingers rubbing small circles on Francine's leg. "No. I mean: if I do this, you don't touch her."

Nick looked down at his hand and idly asked, "And how do you think you'll be able to tell if I'm upholding my end of that bargain?" He ran his finger lightly up Francine's inner thigh and she jolted back with a quiet sob. "It's not like you'd be able to hear that through the microphone…"

Buzz was halfway to his feet at Francine's distressed sound before he forced himself to sink back down, his hands clenched tightly at his side. "Please," he begged desperately, his mind rushing to come up with an argument that Nick would listen to. He knew what he was good at; it wasn't this. He finally latched onto the one thing he knew for sure that the bad guy would agree with. "You've said it yourself, I'm not very smart. I won't be able to do that," he nodded towards the laptop, "if I'm worried about Francine. At least, not without drawing attention."

Nick stared at him for a long minute before letting out a huff and taking his hand off of Francine's leg. "I suppose you are rather simple minded. Very well, your wife will not be 'sullied' by my touches if you cooperate. You have my word. You can get up."

Buzz knew Nick's word didn't mean a thing, but he also knew it was the best he was going to get. He stood up slowly and decided it couldn't hurt to say, "Thank you."

Nick's lips twitched and he reached behind him to pull out Buzz's gun. Buzz's stomach clenched; did he already do something wrong? Nick gave him a look before ejecting the magazine and sliding all of the bullets out onto the table. He cleared the last bullet from the chamber and reassembled the pistol before sliding it back to Buzz. "There. We don't want anyone asking any awkward questions, after all. Take that and go. And, before you get any ideas, I know it should take you around fifteen minutes to get to the station. Don't try to stop anywhere else."

Buzz took the empty gun and put it back in its holster. He met Francine's eyes and held her gaze for a second before saying softly, "Don't worry, I'll be back as soon as I can."

Francine nodded, her eyes never leaving Buzz as he backed out of the kitchen. Stepping outside and closing the apartment door behind him was one of the hardest things he'd ever had to do.


Exactly fourteen minutes later, Buzz pulled into the station's lit up parking lot. He automatically scanned the other vehicles there, feeling a rush of relief when he didn't see Gus' small blue car or Detective Lassiter's Crown Vic. The less people here who were likely to pay him any attention, the better.

"You should be there by now. Come out where I can see you…" Nick's voice came through clearly in Buzz's ear, the condescending voice making him jump.

"I just pulled in," Buzz answered quickly as he exited the truck and strode to the front steps. "You should be able to see me now?"

"Yes, but let's keep the talking to a minimum, shall we?"

"Right," Buzz answered before wincing at himself. A low chuckle played through the earpiece, and Buzz tried to focus on what he needed to do. He walked through the doors and smiled at the receptionist before turning to go down to the evidence room. He spoke quietly, hoping the microphone could pick him up. "What evidence am I getting?"

Nick tisked and answered, "I'll tell you when you're at the counter. I can't imagine you'd be able to remember the number between now and then."

Buzz couldn't stop the bemused expression that crossed his face at the words; half of his job was just remembering numbers and relaying them later. He shook away the reaction and hoped no one noticed as he reached the bottom of the stairs. He turned and entered the evidence room, smiling at the young woman with buzzed brown hair manning the counter. "Heya Sandy, how's it going today?"

"It was hoppin' earlier with all the new stuff comin' in from the Stawarski murders," Sandy answered with an easy grin of her own. "What can I do ya for, Buzz?"

"I actually need to sign out some evidence, do you have the forms for me?" Buzz asked, suddenly finding it harder to think; he was going to be leaving a paper trail straight back to himself. He remembered Francine's scared but brave eyes and forced himself to smile at Sandy as she brought up a clipboard. "Thanks."

Nick droned in his ear, and Buzz wrote the numbers he was given as he filled out the forms on autopilot and tried to not think about how he was totally going to be fired after this. Assuming he survived that long.

"Hey, you feelin' alright there, Buzz?"

Buzz looked up from the sheet of paper he'd been staring blankly at and tried to smile like normal. "Yeah, just… Shawn recommended a new japadog food cart and I don't think it settled very well."

Sandy rolled her eyes and started her usual argument, "Man, what'd I say? Veggie dogs wouldn't do that to ya."

"Veggie dogs aren't delicious, though," Buzz answered automatically.

"Just means ya haven't found the right ones…" Sandy looked over the paperwork and groaned, "I literally just got those put away. I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm glad there must be a new lead on those murders, just… couldn't they have figured it out like twenty minutes ago?"

Buzz couldn't answer her as she walked off, too busy trying to remember how to breathe around the tight band suddenly squeezing his chest.

"Finally figured it out, huh?" Nick asked, sounding amused. "It took you long enough."

"Oh my god. You're-"

"Would you believe me if I said their deaths were unplanned and an accident?"

Buzz answered faintly, "Not really, no."

"Well then, I guess you're a bit smarter than I thought." Nick's voice turned darker. "Chop chop, your wife doesn't have all day."

Buzz winced at the thinly veiled threat; Mrs. Stawarski's body had been partially chopped up when they'd found it. He answered quickly, "I can't do anything to speed this up. It's just-"

He quickly cut himself off as Sandy came back with two bags of evidence. She placed them on the counter, and he couldn't help but wonder how a pad of paper and a matchbook could tie the killings back to Nick. Sandy looked at him in concern. "Man, ya really don't look too good. Once you hand these off make sure to take off, alright? Go home and let that lady of yours take care of you."

A hysterical giggle tried to force its way through Buzz's tight throat, and he just nodded with a faint smile as he grabbed the evidence bags. Hopefully Sandy would just think he was trying not to puke.

She wouldn't be wrong.

"Adequate work, Officer," Nick said, making Buzz's rank sound like an insult. "Bring that back and I'll have your next task for you."

Buzz closed his eyes for a second as he pushed against his growing panic and the certainty that tonight was never going to end. His eyes snapped open with the realization that he needed the night to last as long as possible, no matter how stressful it was. He still hadn't thought of any way to rescue Francine.

"Oh hey, Buzz! You're here late!" A cheerful voice pulled Buzz out of his thoughts as he reached the top of the stairs, and he stared at their resident psychic, Shawn Spencer.

Maybe this was the break he needed.

"Hey, Shawn. Yeah, working a bit late tonight." Buzz focused as hard as he could on thinking the real answer, Francine is in trouble, the murderer's in my apartment.

Some people thought Shawn was a fake, but how else could the psychic know as much as he did if he wasn't at least a little spiritually inclined. It definitely couldn't hurt to try.

"You ok there, man? You look a bit constipated," Shawn said, looking at him in concern.

"Get rid of him…" Nick said impatiently.

Buzz swallowed, trying to track all of the conversations he was involved in at once. "Yeah, just bad food. I'm headed home after this." Home is where the murderer is, bring backup.

Shawn nodded, already turning away. "Good luck! Lassie's in a mood, I need Jules…"

A desperate idea popped into Buzz's mind, and he started talking before he could talk himself out of it. "Yeah, I'm actually bringing this stuff to Lassie, hopefully it'll calm him back down."

Shawn turned to give him a sharp look, and Buzz thought desperately at him, Don't say anything, bad guy's listening, at my apartment.

Shawn didn't give any indication that he'd heard as his eyes dropped from the earpiece to the bags in Buzz's hand. "Those're from the Stawarski case, right?"

"Get. Rid. Of. Him," Nick ordered.

"Yeah, but I gotta go. You know Lassie." Buzz smiled quickly and turned to walk out the door, leaving Shawn behind with his head tilting in thought.

"You have a detective who lets himself be called 'Lassie'? What is this world coming to?" the murderer griped as Buzz made his way back to his truck. "Get back here, we have more work to do."

Buzz let out a quiet breath as he climbed into his truck and pulled out of the parking lot. He really hoped Shawn got his message.


Buzz was sitting at his second red light when the idea occurred to him. He glanced around nervously; what if Nick had found a way to monitor him in his truck? Not seeing anything obvious, he reached over and carefully opened the glove box.

Detective Lassiter had made sure every officer under his watch knew to always carry two spare magazines of ammunition on them, or near them, at all times. Buzz pulled out a full magazine from the glove box and looked at it, rolling it in his hand.

He could surprise Nick, run in guns blazing and rescue Francine like Detectives Lassiter and O'Hara would. His eyes slid over to the bags sitting on the passenger seat. He could hold the evidence hostage, talking quickly to try to barter for Francine's safety like Shawn and Gus would.

He looked back at the bullets and remembered the layout of the kitchen with Francine sitting in front of Nick. Like a human shield. He looked at the bags and remembered Nick's cold eyes and the way he seemed to have a plan for everything. Buzz sighed, "Dangit."

"Is there a problem, Officer?" Nick asked in his ear.

Buzz shook his head and quietly put the magazine back into the glove box as the light turned green. "No, just another red light. I'll be back soon."

"Good. Your wife is looking forward to seeing you."


Buzz was on his knees again, the headset still in his ear and his gun back on the table.

"I knew I'd made the right choice with you," Nick said as he held the evidence bag up to the light. "You're just made for following orders."

Buzz only half paid attention as he looked Francine over carefully, making sure she hadn't been hurt while he was gone. She looked back, still clearly scared, but radiating trust with her eyes. He hoped he could live up to that trust.

"Who was that man? The one interested in these?" Nick asked as he put the evidence back down on the table.

"His name's Shawn, he's one of the consultants we hire sometimes," Buzz answered, knowing it wasn't worth trying to lie.

Nick started typing on his laptop again and promoted, "Shawn…?"

"Spencer."

"Hmm…" Nick continued to type as a small furry head stuck up from under the table. Buzz narrowed his eyes at Little Girl Cat, hoping she'd see his disapproval for sitting on the bad guy's lap. She looked back and licked her chops expectantly. The traitor.

"Psychic Detective," Nick read from his screen with an incredulous look. "Maybe I shouldn't have bothered with all of this if your department is desperate enough to hire an obvious conman…" He continued to scroll through the page and his look softened to begrudging respect. "Although, that case clear rate is rather impressive. I always hate it when the cops hire someone competent." He glanced over at Buzz. "Offense intended."

Buzz shrugged and waited, still trying desperately to think of a way to get Francine out of the situation. Nick shooed Little Girl Cat off of his lap before pulling a few things from his laptop bag and standing up. He pulled out his gun and aimed it at Francine as he grabbed the bag, walking over to drop it in front of Buzz. "You're going to help me set up a crime scene next. Everything you need is in-"

A loud knocking at the door broke off his explanation and Buzz held his breath, watching the gun aimed at Francine.

"Hey Buzz, you in there? I need to talk to you!" Shawn's voice came through the door as a series of knocks rang out again.

"Damn, I guess he's earned that closure rate," Nick muttered to himself. "I guess it won't be too bad to have someone smart around."

"Seriously, man. I got a bone to pick with you!" Shawn called out again. "Sandy said you got the poisons from one of my japadog trucks, and I need to know which one! Is it downtown, uptown, funkytown… oh no. Please don't say it's the one on the pier!"

Nick's face immediately soured, and he stalked past Buzz towards the door, muttering under his breath, "I am surrounded by idiots."

Buzz watched the gun carefully, mentally measuring the distance between the two of them. This could be his shot, and he needed to make sure he was ready.

Nick grinned at Buzz, not noticing Little Girl Cat trotting towards him. "How does it feel, Officer, to know I'm about to put another civilian in dange- Woah!"

Nick tripped over the cat who was trying to rub against his legs as he walked, and the gun swung wildly in the air as he tried to keep his balance. It was the opening Buzz needed and he surged forward, not bothering to waste time climbing to his feet as his shoulder rammed into Nick's hip.

They fell in a disjointed tangle of limbs and Buzz used his long arms to his advantage as he grabbed for the gun and pried it out of the bad guy's hands. He rolled away and immediately propped himself up on his elbow, aiming the gun at Nick as he yelled, "Freeze!"

Nick froze, his mouth gaping wide in shock as he stared with unbelieving eyes.

"Buzz! Hold on, we're coming!" There was a loud thunk on the door and a muffled yelp of pain before Shawn called again, "Nevermind. We're waiting for Lassie to get here, then we're coming!"

"We're ok," Buzz called back as he slowly pushed himself up to sitting, the gun never wavering from Nick. He dug into his belt and pulled out his handcuffs, tossing them over to the bad guy. He knew better than to get close without backup. "Sit up slowly, then cuff yourself, hands behind your back."

"You won't shoot me," Nick said as he sat up, his eyes darting around to take in the gun, the door, and the windows. "You're too weak to take a life."

Buzz gave him a humorless smirk. "Like you said. I'm good at taking orders. 'An officer may use deadly force to stop a fleeing suspect if there's probable cause that the suspect has committed a felony involving bodily injury or death.' It's right there in the handbook." Nick's eyes narrowed and Buzz let the smile fall off of his face. "I will shoot you. You hurt Francine."

Nick hesitated for only a second longer before reaching down slowly to pick up the cuffs. He put his hands behind his back and Buzz listened for the ratchets of them closing before he moved again, standing up while keeping the gun trained on the bad guy. He called back softly, "Francine, you still ok?"

Francine let out a muffled affirmative sound and Buzz told her, "Ok, good. I'm going to get you out of here, ok?"

Another muffled sound confirmed that she heard him, and he walked over to the front door, carefully watching Nick the whole time. He unlocked the door by feel and opened it slightly before moving away to keep covering Nick as he told Shawn, "Francine's in the kitchen, get her out of here."

Shawn blinked in shock as he took in the scene, but to his credit he recovered quickly and jogged into the kitchen. Gus walked in behind him, tucking his phone into his pocket and telling Buzz, "Lassiter's on his way, there's some officers nearby who'll get here any time. You good?"

"Yep," Buzz answered, not daring to take his eyes off of Nick for even a second. His muscles were tight, and he felt like they were just seconds from snapping. There was movement out of the corner of his eye, and Shawn came back, escorting a shaky Francine into the living room.

Buzz wanted to collapse from relief right then and there, but he kept himself locked in place as Francine quietly asked, "Buzz?"

"It's ok, sweetie, you're safe," Buzz answered. "I'll be out as soon as I can, alright?"

"Ok," Francine agreed as Shawn gently guided her out the front door. Buzz kept watch, not moving until two other officers came through the door and confirmed that Nick was properly restrained and that he could stand down.

Buzz relaxed, gladly handing over the murderer's gun before turning to leave the apartment. A soft, warm weight rubbing against his leg stopped his movement and he took a second to bend down and scratch Little Girl Cat under her chin. "It's ok, I forgive you. Thanks for the help. Again."

The cat chirped at him before trotting off, and Buzz went to find his wife.


Francine's red hair was magnified by the flashing red police lights, and she threw herself into Buzz's arms as soon as she saw him. He hugged her gently, wishing he could have given her the protection she deserved. "I am so sorry you got caught up in all of that."

Francine pulled back slightly to glare at him with red-rimmed eyes. "Busby McNab, don't you dare go thinking that was your fault."

Buzz stared at her in surprise. "Wha- I didn't…" She narrowed her eyes, silently cutting off his stuttering. He deflated and told her quietly, "I could have gotten you out sooner. If I was smarter or-"

She jabbed her finger into his chest and told him firmly, "No." Buzz clicked his mouth closed and she continued softer, "You did everything you could. And I'm proud of you."

Something squeezed the insides of Buzz's throat, and he pulled her tighter to him. "I'm proud of you for being so brave."

A tremor ran through her shoulders, and she was suddenly sobbing into his chest. Buzz kissed the top of her head and looked up to catch Detective Lassiter's eye, shaking his head slightly. He'd give his statement later. Right now, he needed to spend time with his wife.


A/N: I had a super tall friend who literally had to drive a truck because all cars were too small for him. Hence Buzz having a truck here.

If you liked this and enjoy whump, I have more whumptober stories on my AO3 account under the same name.