Title: Under Fire

Author: Liquid Thalassa

E-mail: liquidthalassa@yahoo.com

Genre: Angst/General

Pairing: Cruz/ (Bosco?)

Spoilers: "Surrender" and previous episodes.

Author's Note: Ok, so I decided to write a second part to this fic. And this is where I stray form what happened on TV into my own Third Watch world :0)

Part 2:

It wasn't until she got outside, away from curious glances and the feeling of drowning that she was able to think relatively clearly.  She wiped her eyes noting the tinge of mascara staining on her hand and could only imagine what her face looked like.

She looked around, feeling uncharacteristically lost and alone. What's wrong with me, she thought, then answered herself. Everything. Everything was wrong, nothing was right. Not anymore. She felt a warm salty tear run down her face once more and she angrily wiped it away. I've lost it, totally, completely lost it.

She took a deep breath and decided to walk, not knowing what to do or exactly where she was going. She came with Monroe but she didn't want to deal with her now. Not her eyes looking at her with pity or sugar coated words and false understanding. The truth was Monroe didn't understand her, no matter how much she said she did, she never could.

No one could. No scratch that, she thought. There was only one person who seemed to have some understanding of her, some tangible grasp of the real Maritza. But he was lost to her, her one and only ally faded into oblivion. The thought made her want to cry some more. I'm so pathetic, seriously, someone shoot me now. Put me outta my misery…

Walking up the busy city streets she wondered on, the thought of getting back to the House briefly crossed her mind only to be swept away. Screw them, she thought bitterly, screw them all. The sound of a horn honking startled her. Dios, can't those jackasses learn to drive? Only when she looked she saw Monroe creeping along. Great.

"Cruz?" She called, head sticking out of the window. "Come on, get in."

She ignored her, keeping her face straight ahead.

"Sergeant, come on. I'll drive you."

Obviously ignoring won't work, time for something else. Cruz turned and looked at Monroe, eyes glaring with annoyance. "Look, I don't need you're help alright. So just leave me alone." She yelled over the loud traffic.

"Look, Serge, I understand your upset-" Monroe began to say.

"Understand?!" Cruz yelled, toughly annoyed. "No, you don't understand, officer. That's the problem! So, thanks but no thanks, I don't want to hear your bullshit."

Monroe looked at her, hesitant. "Alright. If that's how you feel."

Damn, straight that's how I feel. She remained silent.

And with that Monroe entered traffic and left. Cruz resumed her walk, fighting the nightmares plaguing her mind.

How long she walked, she didn't know. It was only when she entered the gates and walked the stone path that she knew where she was going, where she was unconsciously leading herself. She slumped to the ground, feeling the hard impact of earth on her knees and wetness of dew kissed grass.

She touched the tombstone's cool surface, tracing each letter. L-E-T-I-C-I-A. Lettie. Bowing her head she sobbed. For Lettie, for the rape, for Bosco, for everything screw up in her life. I'm so sorry, she thought. I'm sorry Lettie; I never meant to turn out like this. I never meant for it to be this way.

She just stayed there, crying to her dead sister since there was no one she could cry to. Somewhere in the back of her mind she realized it was partly her fault; that her solitude was brought on by her and her only. Afternoon gave way to evening, the air growing cooler, the sky darker. But she didn't want to leave. Deep down she wished that she too, were in a grave, that all this faded and everything worked out.

In the distance she could make out the sound of a siren. She rose, feeling sick and achy. It was time to go, she knew. Walking tiredly she made her way through the path and past the gates. That's when she saw him. Bosco.

Her heart skipped a beat at the sight of his bright blue eyes zeroing in on hers, just as he had done in the court room. He stood leaning against the RMP, arms crossed. She started to walk past him, thinking he was here for other reasons, like a call.

"Maritza." He said.

Maritza. Only he called her that. She turned knowing now he came for her, that the concern and worry in his eyes were for her. That the silent strength he gave was for her. She was grateful and perplexed.

"How did you know I was here?" She asked curious.

"Where else would you be? I think I know you by now." He said walking closer to her. "Come on, you've had a shitty day. Let me take you home."

She relaxed at his proximity, the familiarity. He took her arm and moved her along. She got into the RMP and sighed.

He got in and looked at her. "Here's a napkin, you look like a hooker." He smiled handing it out for her.

She stared at him, his cocky grin and couldn't help but laugh. "Thanks." She said sincerely. "I needed that." In more ways than one.

Only, Bosco, she thought still smiling. Only, he would know…

"Do you want to talk?" He looked at her and asked hesitantly.

"You being here is enough." She replied quietly.

He started the car and nodded. He understood, after all. "If you ever…you, know, need to talk…I'm here…despite everything that's happened between us." He told her, eyes serious.

She smiled. "You too- you know. If you need to talk." She paused. "You know where to find me."

"Yeah, I do. I found to tonight…"

"Yeah, you did." She smiled.

Bosco put the car in reverse and back out of there.  

*

A/N: So there's Part 2. In the future I may whip up another part, I'm not sure. Let me know what you think either way. Thanks. -LiquidThalassa