Title: In a New York Minute (1/?)
Author: X_tremeroswellian
Email: X_tremeroswellian@yahoo.com
Disclaimer: Are not, have not and will not ever be mine.
Rating: PG-13/R for language, violence, and sexual content. *Deals with issues of rape, domestic violence, child abuse, torture and homicide.
Spoilers: Up through and including "Act Brave." Also major spoilers for my other fic, "No Mercy."
Summary: Someone from Faith and Bosco's past threatens their happiness with his plans to enact revenge on them for the death of his brother.
Distribution: If you want it, take it. Just let me know where it's going.
Category: Story sequel
Subcategories: Suspense/romance/angst/thriller and a touch of the supernatural.
Feedback: Helps me write faster and is always appreciated.
Author's Note: This is a sequel to my fic, "No Mercy." If you haven't read that one, you're going to be confused.
In a New York Minute (Part One)
"How's the fettucinni?"
Faith looked up and across the table at Bosco, who was studying her intently. "It's good."
"You haven't eaten much."
She shrugged. "I'm not really all that hungry."
"You didn't eat breakfast either." There was no missing the concern in his voice.
"I think I'm gettin' a cold. I always lose my appetite when I'm getting sick." She gave him a reassuring smile.
Bosco looked a little relieved. A cold he could handle. As long as it wasn't anything more serious. "You do look a little pale."
Faith nodded slightly, pushing a strand of blond hair out of her face. "I'll be all right. How's the lasagna?"
He shrugged. "Mine's better." He grinned.
She smiled back at him and he squeezed her hand lightly. "I think our break's almost over."
Bosco glanced at his watch and sighed. "Yeah. Looks like." He held a hand up and motioned to their waitress, a pretty brunette who didn't look much older than Emily. "We're ready for our ticket."
She smiled at him and handed him the ticket. "You have a nice day, Officers."
"Thanks." He pulled out his wallet.
"You're paying?" Faith asked.
"You paid last time," he reminded her. "I got it."
"I'll cover the tip."
He nodded. "I'll be right back." He headed up to the cash register.
Faith took a sip of her 7UP and then rose to her feet, glancing around the small Italian restaurant. It was one of her and Bosco's favorite places to eat. The had dinner there at least once a week, sometimes twice. She pulled a five dollar bill out of her pocket and laid it on the table. Then she walked over to where Bosco was standing.
She wrapped her arms around his waist from behind and rested her chin on his shoulder. He leaned his head against hers as they waited to pay their bill.
"Only three more hours," he told her, his voice soft.
She nodded her head slightly so he would know she'd heard him.
Bosco covered her hands with his. "Maybe you should make a doctor's appointment."
"I'm okay. Really. It's not a big deal." Her voice was quiet. She didn't get sick very often, but anytime she did--even if it was just a case of the sniffles--Bosco had the tendency to go into overprotective mode.
But she understood where his fears came from because she shared the same ones. He was afraid that the cancer was going to return, to rear its ugly head and split apart the life they'd worked so hard at creating together.
"You're sure?"
"I'm sure," Faith replied.
A moment later, the host finally returned to the cash register. Bosco paid their dinner bil and they left the restaurant.
"Nice night," he commented as they stepped outside.
Faith nodded her agreement and stretched her arms over her head. The air was mildly warm, but not enough to make most people uncomfortable. There was a soft breeze taht just barely ruffled her golden blond hair, which was pinned up in its usual clip for work. "I'll call us in."
"You do that." Bosco looked up toward the sky.
She punched the button on her radio and informed the dispatcher they were 10-98. She started to head to their RMP when she heard a high-pitched scream. She was instantly on guard, the hairs on the back of her neck standing on end as her hand dropped to her gun holster.
Similarly, Bosco was alert, trying to determine who had made the ear-piercing noise.
"He stole my purse! Stop him!"
Faith turned and spotted a heavy set old lady with curly gray and blue streaked hair. The woman clutched onto a brightly decorated cane, and was pointing in the opposite direction from where she and Bosco stood.
Her gaze shifted to further up the sidewalk, a man in a blue jean jacket with a large eagle on the back of it and a pair of blue jeans was running as fast as he could, a small brown bag clutched tightly in his hands.
They moved as one, she and Bosco, chasing after the man, their feet pounding on the pavement in perfect tandem. He was ahead of her, but not by much. Their routine morning runs in Central Park had conditioned her to be almost as fast as him, though if they were ever to run a short race, he would beat her hands down. Long distance running, however, was her strength.
"Stop! Police!" Bosco shouted as they began to catch up to the man.
Of course, the guy didn't stop. They rarely did. In fact, perps rarely slowed down while being chased, the adrenaline pumping through their veins wouldn't allow it.
Fight of flight.
And generally most people didn't want to turn and fight two police officers who carried loaded guns.
He wasn't slowing down, but they were catching up.
Bosco's pace increased so he was a couple of feet ahead of her now. He reached out and grabbed the back of the guy's coat, pulling him to a stop.
The man started to turn around and Faith instantly pulled her weapon on him, pointing it at his haed. "Don't move," she ordered. The guy froze.
"Running from the cops after mugging some old lady? Not real smart, jag-off," Bosco informed him, pulling the handcuffs off his belt.
"You're under arrest. You have the right to remain silent," Faith said calmly as she watched Bosco handcuff him. He took the purse from the perp and tossed it to her as she finished reading the guy his rights.
He shook his head as he pushed the grumbling man ahead of him as they walked back toward the RMP. "I don't get it. Why do these Bozos -always- run?" he asked.
Faith patted his arm lightly. "Because they don't know you're a gazelle, Boz," she answered, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips.
He turned to look at her, his blue eyes twinkling in amusement. He grinned at her.
They paused briefly in the middle of the sidewalk where the old lady still stood. She glared at the man. "You should be ashamed of yourself!" she said, shaking her cane toward him.
The man didn't respond.
Faith started to hand the woman back her purse, but she snatched it out of her grasp and walked away without so much as a thank you. "You're welcome!" Faith called after her, rolling her eyes.
"Ungrateful hag," Bosco muttered in disgust, pushing the perp into motion again.
They got back to the RMP before the perp said anything. Then he looked right at her, a hateful sneer on his face. "How many guys you have to bang to be a cop?"
Bosco shoved him up against the car roughly. "Watch your mouth, jag-off!" His voice was full of warning.
The guy smirked. "What? She your little bitch?"
He shoved him harder against the car, his knee planted firmly in the guy's lower back. Bosco leaned in close. "No, asshole. She's my wife," he said darkly. "And I think you owe her an apology."
"Fuck you."
Bosco sighed, shaking his head as he looked over the top of the RMP. "Such language." He turned his attention to the guy again. "You like this jacket?"
The man glanced at him sideways. "Excuse me?"
Bosco placed his hand over the eagle patch on the back of the blue jean jacket. "The jacket. It's nice. You like it?"
"It was my brother's."
He nodded, feigning an interested look. "Your brother's huh?" He grabbed hold of a loose edge of the patch and gave it a rough jerk.
"Hey! Stop!" the perp protested.
"Apologize to her," Bosco commanded, nodding toward Faith.
"Forget it!"
He tugged on the eagle patch again. Faith could hear the material beginning to rip.
"All right, all right! I'm sorry! Jesus, taking a fucking pill!"
Bosco grinned and opened the back of the RMP. He shoved the guy inside and closed the door behind him. "Ah. The sweet smell of surrender. You gotta love it."
"So, we're off tomorrow. What do you wanna do?" Bosco asked, pressing a kiss to the top of her head as she lay back against his chest in the bubblebath.
She was quiet for a moment. "Em's birthday is coming up. I need to go shopping."
"You decided what you wanna get her yet?" he asked, rubbing his arms lightly.
"I think I'm gonna get her that ring she likes so much."
"The birthstone one?"
Faith nodded slightly. "I was gonna hold off 'til her sixteenth birtday, but...I think she's old enough."
Bosco nodded his agreement and kissed her temple lightly. "She's a great kid."
"Not really a kid anymore," she said softly.
He paused. "No, I guess not."
They were silent for a few moments, just enjoying their time together.
She turned slightly so she could look at him. She gazed into his eyes for a moment. "I love you," Faith said softly.
"I love you, too," he answered, gazing back at her.
She leaned forward and kissed him on the lips. He instantly kissed her back. She shifted slightly so that she was facing him completely.
Bosco reached out and touched her cheek gently. "I am so lucky," he whispered, staring into her eyes. "Every day I wake up with you beside me, I thank my lucky stars."
Faith swallowed hard, her eyes shiny. "I don't think I could do this without you."
"Do what?"
"Live," she whispered.
"You don't have to," he promised, kissing her gently.
She pulled away. "Swear it," she said, her voice hushed.
Bosco searched her eyes, finding the same anxiety he'd seen reflected there a few nights ago. "I swear." He ran a hand over her hair. "I swear to you." His tone was firm but quiet.
Faith felt herself relax slightly at his words and she closed her eyes as their lips met again. Her unease was forgotten as they began to make love.