Caveat: Touching Evil. Oh yes. Wouldn't we ALL like to own Creegan - I mean the SHOW! The show. Right. Of course, lol! Obviously I don't own it b/c I'm here writing a fanfic and whatever which is a BIG giveaway mind you . . . [throws peanut at self] Make sure your turntables are in their upright position - blah blah never been a flight attendant - falalala. Sit tight - not too tight. :D [introduction written under great state of insomnia]
- heAven's buRning -
by Mia - Ai-no-Tora
Chapter Eleven: "Black-Drop Effect"
Two worlds crossed each other that night, finding one another across a deep expanse of nothing and everything. More or less a world away. He gave her a hand up and as soon as she was on her feet, he immersed her in a large, protective hug, so warm that the whole earth seemed to melt beneath her shoes. He always loved to give hugs to those who were close to him, like the day she met him she watched with hidden amusement as he practically threw himself at Enright, their supervisor and friend.
Though something told her this particular embrace was more than just a hug. Embrace was right; he held onto her like she was going to float away somehow, a runaway balloon, slip past his arms without his permission. She wondered what gave her the thought as she gave the gift back to him, eyes shut tight and it could have been the end of the world for all she cared. Didn't matter anyway; he had something now and so did she and she was determined to keep it that way.
--
"The Earth laughs in flowers."
Susan looked over where he had bent down to pick at the sand, water drenching at his shoes. An image of her car's interior drenched with wet sand appeared in her mind and she grinned slightly. "What?"
He rose and made his way to her, taking her hand and placing in her palm a shiny white pebble. "You say that a lot." Eyebrow raise. "Oh - A quote I saw painted on a wall somewhere. I always thought that the world laughs in children."
"Yes - I think that sounds better actually." They resumed walking along the shoreline back to the car and he cleared his throat as though he were readying for an important announcement. "Hey, I wanted to ask you something." She exhaled deeply and he shook his head. "No, nothing that personal I promise."
She rubbed the pebble in her hand for good measure before putting it in her pocket. "Fine. Fire away."
"Okay." Tossing his head back, he stared up at a cloud-blanketed sky. "I was wondering why you died your hair from brown to blond around the time we were first working together and you never mentioned it - so I didn't either." He reached up and rubbed his own head for good measure and yawned.
She stopped to look at him speculatively. "You . . . You actually remember that?"
"You sound surprised. C'mon, I've spent two years studying you - I think I know you well enough to go undercover, flash your badge and convincingly pass as you." He heightened the pitch in his voice, standing upright and straight, batting his eyes and talked with professional deliberation. "'Sir, I don't think that this David Creegan is capable of operating well under normal circumstances.' 'Oh, HECTOR, do it again!'" The Creeganisms were starting to form and take shape in the back of her mind as she glanced mischievously at him, watching as he howled with laughter at his own cleverness.
"You're right, we have been working together for far too long - so I'm going to do something you would never expect just as you do."
He moved excitedly, nearing her. "Really? I'd like to see that."
"I bet you would!" With all the strength she could muster, she threw her shoulder into his stomach and did a classic football move, push-dragging him toward the water and heaved him in. She jumped aside at the splash as his long body fell back first, and he sputtered in the shallow water, gawking up at her with his mouth open, hair dripping down his face.
Just looking at him made Branca want to die of laughter. And she laughed. And laughed and laughed as he got up on his feet, clothes sodden and heavy; he poked a finger in his ear and sand came out. Still she laughed at him. "Hm. Charming. Very charming." He had never seen her laugh so hard before, seeing her stumble backward and land on her butt as she took a deep breath and released another set of hearty sounds; he dripped away, still mesmerized at the woman before him.
Not one to just stand around and freeze, he slowly picked his jacket off of him and sloppily folded it, setting it down. He noticed her quieting when he tugged at his shirt and pulled it over his head, tossing it on top of the jacket in some slow, tantalizing strip tease. A single droplet slid down his scar, and over the ones on his cheek and she swallowed audibly. Exposed under her eyes and under the utter cold, a strong shiver clenched around him tight and he cried out with a loud woo that Susan swore could be heard across the water to the city on the other side. Once he reached down for his belt, she tore off the ground and quickly picked up his clothes and gave it to him. "David! What the hell do you think you're going to do, huh?"
"Funny - you ask that a lot too." He gave another cold shiver.
She rolled her eyes. "I don't know why I ask. Now come on, put this on okay?" She opened his jacket and urged him into it.
"It's cold and full of sand."
"Would you rather go naked?"
"Yes."
Her face turned redder and she shook her head, prodding him more. "You're going to get sick! And I don't want to be seen with a naked, cold man that's getting sicker in more ways than one." Her clipped sarcasm prompted his mental stability. He enjoyed seeing her getting uncomfortable over this. He could see the red flags going up all around him, screaming Danger! Danger Will Robinson!
"You don't want to see me naked?"
Danger Will Robinson! "No!"
An adorable pout sent her way. "I say the lady doth protest too much." He sighed and relented, slipping back on the now freezing garment. "That hurt, Detective Branca, right here," He pressed a hand over his heart and she snorted indignantly.
"I didn't know there was anything in there to hurt, now let's go. Hurry up."
She began walking without waiting for him to finish, hearing him chuckle behind her. "The Earth snorts in indignant, uncomfortable-with-voyeurism women!" Then he hopped right along after her.
"You don't get in that car in 10 seconds then you could just eat my dust."
"Ooh, the lady taketh a dominatrix stance." He grinned at her and she only ignored him, getting in the car and let him struggle with the locked door for a moment before she pushed the button to unlock it.
"Me thinketh the man hath too many a hole in his head," she muttered, trying to look away as he squished down on the passenger seat, flinging sand every which way.
Reaching a hand to start the car, he reached out and covered it with his own; fire on ice. Her head shot up in surprise. "Susan." Just looking into his eyes brought her knees to jello. Make a face, or something! She burst out loud inside at the thought of his photo on his OSC ID, his eyes crossed in a perpetual bout of humor. "I'm happy. I mean I'm happy. Not like those frozen dinners or those pre-made cake mixes, but I'm genuinely happy and I . . . I thank you." His wet hair fell a bit over his forehead, water glinting off his wet skin, eyes locked in an intense gaze and she gave one nod, turning the key. He took his hand back. She turned on the heat and waited for it to warm up - not that she needed it.
"David."
"Yes, Susan."
"Buckle up."
They had walked away from anything or anyone that might have overheard; no trace of regret could be found. As Creegan side-glanced at the woman at the wheel, he couldn't think of anything to say but only the thought that she had never looked more beautiful and glowing than she did in the car at that very moment. A silent smile hidden permanently on her mouth, ready to appear when called upon. Now, when she turned and revealed it to him, her whole face seemed to beckon him to heaven, to some better place only for people like her. The moment he returned the smile, they didn't need to say it. They needn't say anything.
He was once again David version 2.0, and always would be.
Somewhere in Branca's apartment a cell phone vibrated, screen flashing, stopped and a voice came on. "This is Alex - and from the look offit, you're a bit busy. Oh, and hun . . ." A giggle. "At least this time you have it on silent. Good for you." [click] After a while it vibrated again, another caller leaving a message to no one.
--
Midnight.
She was making cookies. No ingredients for biscottis or jam-berry pie, so he felt like a chocolate chip cookie would suit him. She got to work as he stepped into her shower, delighting in her floral-scented bathroom, the dark-green guest towels and everything else that made it all the more Susan-y. He felt closer and more at home with her than ever before, staring at his reflection in the mirror.
As she mixed the dough, she couldn't help her thoughts wandering at the fact that he was in her shower at the moment, naked as the day he was born. It was then that he began singing. "Whoa, hey! Whoa, hey! Whoa . . .hey! Bompa-dompa-bomp - there's somethin' about you . . ." She burst out laughing, almost spilling the contents of her bowl as she continued to listen, laughing hysterically once in a while. "Tears me inside out whenever you're around . . . there's something about you . . . speedin' through my veins whenever we hit the ground . . . hm hm hm. . . Made me feel so good . . . I got a feeling . . . you get a feeling . . . we got a feeling . . . like we could diiiieeee - yeah! OOOH LOOOORD . . .just can't get enough . . . there's somethin' about you . . ."
Ten minutes later he emerged, steam billowing from the bathroom as he headed half-naked toward where her dryer and washer was located. He was still humming by the time he got around to the kitchen and he flung his feet over the counter, expecting the torn hole on his jeans. She only glanced at his feet, looking quizzical. "Your socks. They're different colors." They were. Gray and white.
"Oh yeah. I think they're supposed to be that way." He took a look for himself.
"One says Reebok and the other says Nike."
"Oh. Two brand names in one. That's a good deal I'd say." Wiggled his toe for effect and she chuckled softly.
--
The house was warm and smelled utterly sweet and reminded Creegan of the gingerbread house. "See that's why they call you 'Special Agent,'" Branca wiped away the trace of cookie dough from her eyebrow Creegan had flung at her. "As in Special Ed."
He came up next to her, swung his hip to the side and bumped her a good two feet. "You're calling me retarded?"
She took a moment in mock consideration. "Hm. Yeah. I think I am." She turned, putting the lumps of dough on the cookie sheet before sliding them into the pre-warmed oven, closing the door and wiping her forehead, tossing the oven mitt. He sat down on the other side of the island, licking his fingers from the bowl of leftover dough she handed him, a towel wrapped atop his head from showering and he was now walking around shirtless against her protests. "Do you . . . even know what retarded means?"
Susan was looking at her cell-phone that she left on the counter near the fridge, having already listened to Alex's humorous message, she moved on to the other one. "What does it mean then, Webster?"
"It means . . ." He gestured a fork at her. "Mentally slowed or delayed." He dripped some dough onto the tile and he leaned over the counter to lick it off much to her amusement.
"That's disgusting, Creegan."
"Ten second rule."
Roll of the eyes. Another message came on and he noticed her expression change. "Hey, this is Hector, Susan. I was wondering if - well, was it the wrong night tonight? Wrong restaurant? The Cannes right? At 7 . . . Well, I waited until 9 so um . . ."
"Oh shit."
David perked up at the sound of her cursing. "What?"
"Well, just give me a call back if you can. I'm sorry if you got caught up with something - we could always catch up another night. Good night, Susan. [click] If you would like to delete this message, please press 7 . . ."
"What, Susan, what?" His face was covered with the bowl before he set it down to look at her.
"Nothing." She set down the phone, eyes staring unseeingly at her slipper-clad feet. He exhaled again, one of those that meant he already knew what was bothering her, he just wanted to hear it from her mouth.
"Sanders, wasn't it." She bit her lip. "Do you want me to go? I'll walk home if he's coming over so I can leave you two alone with your 'risky business.'"
"Stop, David. Just stop it."
The sound of the fork banging in the sink startled her with a jolt, and she set her eyes on him, his arm raised having thrown it. "I thought we were past this already," he muttered softly, eyes on the orange glow of the oven. "I thought that after I've told everything there is about me, maybe you'll start to open your eyes and see."
She closed her eyes, picturing herself in the wide expanse of a field of flowers. "What exactly am I supposed to see?" She opened her eyes and stared at him, blue eyes bright. "And what about you? I'm not the only one who's keeping secrets."
"Secrets? What the hell are you talking about?" She crossed her arms and huffed, gripping onto her arms.
"Hallie? I hear things that I'm probably not supposed to. You and her . . . seriously David, I thought -"
"What? What did you think? That we're sleeping together?" The barrier had been plowed through and now they were trampling through taboo land. Something had caught in her chest like a hook and reeled her in.
She could play this game too and pretend it didn't hurt like hell. "Yeah. Yeah. Sure. Sleeping together. Not that it's any of my business - you can sleep with whomever you want! I'll just let you know something." She was crying again though she shed not a tear. This wasn't supposed to happen. She gave her heart to him that night and now she was seemingly setting it on fire. I've done enough. It's got to end somewhere. "I can't be in love with someone who doesn't love me. Everything changes, everything falls apart - like I fall apart. Every day after I see you, I go home and tell myself why I feel so stupid, why you're the only one . . . that . . . " She placed a hand over her mouth. Oh God, shut up already! That was too much as it is.
A long, deep heart-wrenching exhale of breath on his part, his voice steady, carefully choosing his words. "You do know I have a hole in my head, right? Okay. The first time I met you, I was cutting my hair. It was the first time since my time in the nut-house that my breath was taken away because of a beautiful woman that was going to be my colleague. Cut to the airplane trip to Denver - I realized you weren't just another pretty face. I told you what everyone else seemed to have known - except for one thing. I joked with you, Susan. I wanted to make you smile, I wanted to see you laugh. It made me happy. So much so that I threw a peanut at myself, then promptly started stripping and reciting Tiger, Tiger in the middle of the aisle. I would have continued if the flight attendant would have just kept her mouth shut.
"The one-year anniversary at the Tiki-Bar - I wasn't that plowed to still remember your hand on my lips, on my shoulder. Telling me you're actually human and do feel utterly human at the end of the day. I saw you looking at me when Bernal had me in a head-lock - everything died away because of that look - and that was the reason why I threw Bernal to the ground because I couldn't stand the thought of losing in front you. Plus I noticed that Rivers also realized that you were something else, something he'd also like to have."
He held up a hand, finger pointing in the air to make a point as he swallowed. "Boston. I can still feel your hand on my thigh." She tried hard to keep silent. "I nearly sang when I heard a hint of your strict Catholic background because you told me something personal. I killed Stentz. In my head anyway; just seeing his eyes roving over you made me kill him in my heart. I would have killed him - but you . . . if it had been anyone but you that stopped me, I would have. It didn't bother my conscience in the last bit to kill to protect you - like I've done so many times before even if I didn't have to. That Stentz . . . a huge part of me felt so sorry for him for losing all that he had but . . . just the fact that he came after you pissed me off. Just like Akins with my daughters." The confession left her speechless, the memories submerging to haunt her. "The time when you brought back my girls. I knew it wasn't only Hank in on it. The second I saw that look in your eyes, I knew. You were the big piece of the jigsaw puzzle. Now that I look back on it, you saw me with my girls, my . . . family for lack of a better word, and now I knew how it broke your heart and put it back together again at the same time. Now I knew you had more than one reason as to why you wanted to bring them back, for your peace of mind as it was for mine."
Deftly removing the towel off his head and rising from the stool, walking around the island toward her and she froze when he came to stand in front of her. She tried to look at anything but his eyes and his smooth chest, the sparse little hairs between his pectorals, his cute bellybutton, the gentle lines disappearing into his waist line.
Suddenly he was near - too near. He had leaned down, hands on either side of her and she felt his lips at the corner of hers, indescribably soft and intimate like silk - a lightning bolt struck her when she felt a flick of his tongue. His eyes fluttered shut and his lashes tickled at her. A small gasp left her as she stared tremblingly up at him, at a loss for words. Did that count as a kiss . . .? Unbidden, her hand came up to slap him, push him away, anything - but he caught her hand before it could do any damage. She cursed in Ukrainian and he smiled.
Leaning back, he whispered and she had to strain to hear him. "Dough," he said, a finger tracing her jaw. "On your lip. You should really speak more Ukrainian . . . it's sexy."
Please don't . . . " . . . stop." She looked so helpless, a fallen angel with a broken wing.
You don't know so many things, Susan. "Did you know," He went on like he didn't hear her, fingers tracing her delicate collarbone. "That the things you own may end up owning you?" He bent again to kiss her jaw, her cheek. "Did you know that Retsina is a Greek wine flavored with pine resin?" She swallowed, shivering at the feel of his lips on her eyelid and on her temple. "Did you know that film doesn't come all in one reel, but by small amounts of frames at a time, and the one who puts them together is called a projectionist?" His hand came up to hold the back of her neck, the other on her waist and hip. She closed her eyes as though if she did, it would all go away, everything would just flood back into its original form. But the trouble was . . . she didn't want it to. "Do you know that the black-drop effect is what shapes Venus into a teardrop as it approaches and leaves the sun, occurring every 122 years?" He breathed into her ear and she fought not to whimper, to give in to this incredulous act of romanticism hinted with facts and information that had nothing to do with him nor her. "You're my black-drop effect, Susan. I have you, and then you're gone . . . and I wait far too long to get you back . . . I want to kiss you like the sun kisses Venus with its warmth."
She could hear her heart beating so loud like a drum near her ear, before his mouth closed over hers and she fell. Who was she kidding - she had already fallen. The touch seared her beyond recognition, a single tear falling down the side of her face. This was a dream waiting to happen. So many times had she imagined kissing him, feeling those lips blanketing hers, fantasizing their texture and feel and pinching herself every time to snap out of it any time he would notice her zoning off. Does he know? Does he . . .?
Her hands came up and set on his chest but she didn't push him away. He brought her closer, his mouth tilting on hers to deepen an emotion that was altogether different because this was David, and this was Susan. Her lips were as tender and moist and sweet as a ripened strawberry on a summer day; he could see a butterfly dancing behind his eyelids. Two years . . . two years was a lifetime to wait for someone you loved. She wasn't resisting him and that fact alone made him want to hold on for dear life.
My black-drop effect. My furious angel. My Susan. This is why.
He only pulled away as she inhaled sweet-smelling air, eyes shining yet glazed, mouth swollen when he looked intensely down at her. "Do you know, Susan? Do you know now?" He felt like he wanted to cry, something to show her just how incredibly paramount this moment was for him, a flashbulb memory. "You. No one else. Not Hallie, never Hallie. Do you get it now?"
Her throat hitched and she nodded quickly, shaking off a stray tear. "Yes. Yes. I get it. Okay. Not Hector, never Hector."
He brought her close again, hugging her to him like a postage stamp. "Good . . . Good. Good." The cookies baked, the whole apartment warm.
Outside, the world and all its bittersweet imperfections, went on.
--
Thursday morning.
The sun that sneaked in through the blinds was a warm gold, promising a perfect morning. David Creegan shifted under a warm duvet, and this time he hadn't woken from a bad dream or some haunting nightmare he could never decipher. In fact, it was the greatest most restful sleep he'd ever experienced in years. He wasn't in his apartment, his beer can covered bed wasn't underneath him. It didn't even smell like beer; it smelled of lilies and gardenias. Susan . . . Susan means 'lily.' The thought was quite random; he remembered seeing the description in a baby-name book and where he had derived Lily's name from. He never realized why he had given Susan a bouquet of lilies until now.
A buzzing, vibrating against his hip and he started with a jerk, grabbing at the intrusion and flipping it open. "Creegan," he muttered , a hand on his forehead.
"Where are you man? You do know that you don't have weekdays off, right?" Mark Rivers' voice hummed from the phone and he groaned in complaint. "Or did you want to be able to catch the early morning cartoons?"
"Oh, you know I do. I'll . . . be there in a jiff." He stayed where he was.
"Hm, that's weird . . ."
"What."
"Branca isn't here either." Slowly, ever so slowly a smile appeared on David's face, eyes closed and he grinned rather stupidly when he felt a warm figure stir next to him on the bed.
"I wonder where she is. I'll give her a call." Susan blinked awake next to him, having listened to the whole conversation since David was a bit hard of hearing and had the phone's volume up all the way. She gave him a scolding glance as he sat up to wink at her.
"All right then, just get over here. Hausen's ex has been brought in - he was found down in San Diego illegally trading stolen vehicle parts." Rivers sighed; apparently his morning wasn't as decent. "He's keeping a tight lid and won't say nothing to nobody until he could get a lawyer present. If we can't bag him for illegal sales than we can get him for obstruction of justice if nothing else."
Work, work, work. Creegan rubbed at his eyes, exhaling and blowing a raspberry. "All right, give me at least 15 minutes." He flipped his cell closed before he turned to look at Branca. She looked the greatest when she had just woken up and he told her so. "You look the greatest when you just wake up."
She groaned and tossed a pillow at him, promptly hitting his face. "Thanks. Meaning I look pretty much like hell the rest of the time."
He grinned widely, reaching down and patting her head. "Hell can't compare with you, believe me I know." He paused, then asked, "By the way, did we sleep together?"
She shook her head in amusement, light dancing in her eyes as she smiled. "Yes we did."
An eyebrow raise - he seemed dubious about something. "Did we sleep together?"
"Nope." She set her comforter aside before leaving him there to stare at where she used to be, her lavender pajamas gone from his sight.
"Damn."
--
Green's Hospital. Cancer ward.
Once she opened her eyes, she couldn't recognize where she was until her eyes fell on a particularly pale face on the bed. He breathed slowly, the soul within struggling to be released. Her chest hurt and she wanted to cry. Why was it that she always found herself here? Her right foot ached and she looked down, surprised to see she had on only one shoe. To make it even more odd, she was also standing there in her white nightgown.
Her eyes trailed over her arms, studying the dirt smears and her head hurt as though she had just smacked it on something very hard. Panic arose within her as she leaned against Danny's bed. This wasn't happening . . . why can't I remember . . .?! How she got there, she didn't know, and her right foot had left faint trails of blood from the doorway. She had walked from to and from somewhere, she just couldn't remember.
--
OSC Interrogation room.
Flipping closed his cell-phone, Agent Rivers used both hands to set on the table, bent close so that he was face-to-face with the suspect who was at the moment confidently sucking on a cigarette. "You're in trouble, cancer-stick man," Lucas Miller raised an eyebrow at the casual approach. "All you have to do is answer some questions and maybe we could strike a deal." Even if there was no lawyer present, it wasn't his fault that this guy was going to crack no matter what. He punched the record button on the tape player. "Thursday, 6th of February . . . 9:39 A.M. Agent Mark Rivers interviewing Lucas Miller without his legal representative present." He set down two pictures on the desk before the suspect, one of Athena Hausen and the other of Vallerie Snider. He wasn't sure whether or not to have Agent Rodriguez's picture down - he figured it would come later.
Lucas rolled his eyes at the professionalism that choked the air as he tried to ignore Athena's picture smiling up at him. He flicked aside the cig stub before slamming a hand on the table. "I already told you - I left Athena even before the Vallerie died. I don't even see why I'm here."
"You know, there's an ashtray over there." He motioned with his head, chuckled with a hint of pity as he leaned back to pace. "Well, Mr. Miller, your alibi doesn't check out on the night of Athena's murder. Can you explain where you were on the night of January 3rd? No? Then you're jail bait." His eyes narrowed as he focused on Lucas. "Your poor grandmother will have to hear about this. It'll break her little heart, God bless her."
Swiping aside his shoulder-length black hair, Lucas bit his lip in consternation. "Jesus Christ, can't you just leave my grandmother out of this?"
Rivers shrugged, trying not to laugh out loud. "It isn't my fault you've lived with her for over 10 years. She must think you're her golden boy, doesn't she? 'Lucas never does anything wrong,' 'Lucas is as sweet as cherry pie.' Oh yeah, I'd say she adores you from what I got out of her; she thinks you're a saint." He returned to his spot in front of the suspect, using his honed interrogation skills. "You give me something that'll help me out, and we'll keep this one out of the record - sparing your granny's ears in the process. What do you say?"
From the other side of the glass in the viewing room, Bernal shook his head at the way the suspect was being handled, like a buddy betting on a race horse.
There was a slight hesitation filled with silence, the air growing stale as every second passed by. Rivers reminded him of such. "The hour-glass is almost empty, Lucas. Do you really want gran to know all about your naughtiness on her death bed?"
"All right! Okay . . ." Rivers fought a smile as he finally broke down the Berlin wall. "Anyway, you're asking the wrong person. You should check on Athena's and Vallerie's old employers."
"You don't think we've done that already?"
"Just listen for a goddamn minute!" Lucas' nostrils flared. "There was a reason I left Athena. She began sleeping with one of her employers - she took care of their house while she got sex and money as a payment. They - the homeowners - they didn't even go on vacation, they just made it seem like they were. I returned the favor when the wife of the homeowner who was sleeping with Athena offered to sleep with me. She asked me the weirdest things - she asked if I ever killed anyone indirectly. I told her I never tried. Then she asked if I could teach her how the breaks on a car were made to fail if one wanted. So I . . . I taught her." He covered his face with his hands, voice breaking as it rose. "I . . . I didn't know she was serious and would actually kill anyone! I swear to fucking God, I didn't know . I just wanted to get back at Athena . . . She offered to off Athena for me - but then Vallerie overheard and the next thing I knew, she was dead. I was long gone by then, I swear!"
Rivers glanced at the window where he knew Bernal to be, communicating a silent message. Taking a deep breath, he cast a wary glance at Lucas who was now falling apart. Beefy men weren't all muscle, he'd come to know. "What is this wife's name anyway?"
Lucas looked up slightly. "Helene. Helene Townsend. She's fucking nuts . . . in the small time I knew her, I knew there was something not quite right. She was a little off."
"Hey, I've had my share of friends who were a little off," Rivers commented as he drew to a close. "Interview terminated at precisely 9:50 A.M." Stopping the recorder then signaling to Bernal, he flipped open his cell and walked out of the room as someone picked up on the other line.
"Swopes."
"Yo Swopes," Rivers strode toward the lab where he knew the technician called home. "I need you to do a few things for me."
--
Susan Branca Apartment.
Grabbing an egg out of the fridge, fully-dressed Creegan poked a hole into it, removing the single shard of eggshell and drank the egg raw. Branca, who watched him from the kitchen table, gagged a little on her fried egg. "That's . . . gross, David."
"No grease, no fat, more muscle my dear." He chucked it in the garbage disposal before his cell-phone rang once again, having turned it from silent. Growling loudly, he grabbed it from his pocket and hastily flipped it open. "What, Marky-Mark, what?!"
"I know where you aaaare," Rivers cooed in a teasing neener-neener tune.
Creegan raised an eyebrow as he plucked a cookie from the plate on the table, glancing at Branca as he did so. "Yeah? So?"
"I had Swopes track your cell-phone address. Technology is sweet these days, isn't it. Say hi to Susan for me you unadulterated piece of slime."
"What do you want? I'll be there in a bit, you don't have to miss me that much." He bit off half the cookie before going to the fridge and hounding on the milk. Susan groaned when he chugged straight out of the carton.
"I don't really need you anymore, bub. I got Miller to crack - and guess what I found out."
"You're pregnant."
"Guess again. No don't - your vic girlfriend is the key to all locked treasure chests."
Creegan put the carton of milk back, wiping his mouth on his jacket sleeve as he inclined his ear further into his shoulder where his phone was pressed. "The fuck are you talking about? She's not my -"
"You ready for this? Helene Townsend. That's her maiden name, Creegan. Hallie Piper was her name when she married. She stuck by it - Swopes found black fibers on Rodriguez's neck. Also - Ah hell, I'll come get you. Okay? I'm on my way over there now. Have Branca catch up with you later - this is a sure fire way to get that fat promotion you've been waiting for."
"For fuck's sake, I don't care about any promotion. A one up in the death business isn't my bowl of fatty popcorn."
"Either way, I'm coming to get you."
"Piss off, Mark. Bye." [click] He turned toward Branca with eyes crossed. "I swear I was just drafted by Mister Rivers 'cuz he wants me!" She rolled her eyes in response, finishing her breakfast.
"So he's coming to get you, hm?"
"He's always coming to get me." He went over to her and bent to kiss the top of her head. She stopped in mid chew to stare up at him. "Tell me I'm sexy in Ukrainian, pleeeeeaaaase?"
She swatted him away, laughing. "Like you said: piss off!"
He drew away in faux pain, snubbing her off. "Hmph! I don't like European women anyway." He strode toward the bathroom, her joyful laughter echoing throughout the house. He realized he could die happy just hearing it.
6 minutes later.
Three consecutive loud honks of a car horn made Susan drop her chapstick as she made her way to the front door. "Creegan, your boyfriend's here."
"Please, Mum, he's just a friend," He replied in a girly voice before he engulfed her in a warm hug. "I'm going to miss you as soon as I walk out your door. I'm going to miss you until I see you again."
She felt choked up again and it made her want to laugh. "David . . ." She hugged him back. "Come on, just shut up and walk away already."
He leaned back and looked as though he was going to kiss her and she waited with dread and joy that he just might. "Did you know that Susan means 'lily'?"
Images of the bouquet that was already wilted at her office flashed through her mind; a baby name book opened to the girl's section - a small bundle of joy in her arms. She blinked it all away, her voice quiet and steady. "Yes. I named my daughter Lily . . . just like you named yours."
Another three honks from the impatient Rivers shook them from their reverie. He didn't stop staring at her with that look in his eyes though. "We aren't through - we're going to finish this," He whispered before kissing her cheek. "I'll see you later." She nodded and he opened the door, walked through it and headed for Mark's silver Honda. He only looked back once and that's all it took for her to want to go back inside and break down again. But she wasn't going to. She made a promise. Mark waved and she waved back before they were gone.
It was a bright sunny day in a world so full of tears.
Grabbing her purse and shrugging on a cream-colored blouse and a pressed pair of slate slacks, square-toed pumps, she got out her keys and locked her door behind her. She spied on a white shoe near her car and she kicked it off toward the road before getting into her car and starting it. She had forgotten to arm her car and she kicked herself for it.
Everything was winding down to that very moment. I'll miss you until the next time I see you.
Susan backed up the car, on the road as she flipped on the radio. Someone behind her honked and she realized she was going under the speed limit so she pressed on the gas a bit more. An intersection was quickly speeding up. Some Sonic Youth song was playing.
You're the one . . . You're the one . . .Heat seeking missile freak . . .
She checked her reflection in the mirror for a moment before pressing down on the brakes. The stoplight kept coming faster than ever. Eyebrows drew together; she glanced at the speedometer. 35 . . . 40 . . . 45 . . .
I will know it - you I will show it . . .
White knuckled hands gripped the steering wheel. The intersection was crowded. A couple skipping high school kids were walking along the sidewalk, and on the other was a pregnant woman with a stroller. Susan's eyes widened, heart going up to her throat, lungs tightening, desperately trying to hook her foot underneath the pedal in hopes of getting out of this alive. The car seemed hell bent, frozen in its fast momentum.
Black magic scared to sleep . . . I will know it you I will show it . . .Will you buy me a shaky heart . . .
SPEED 35. The sign sped by her, a blur of black and white. There were colors all around . . . pale blues, dark reds, black and cream white. Buildings came and went through her window. There was no David. There was no Michael. There was no one but strangers in a world she had never known but lived in for over 30 years.
Breath stopped, her heart halting. Her hands came up to shield her as her car collided with the first car - a truck - that was coming through the intersection at precisely 50 miles per hour. The sound of rending metal, the bashing of some kind of material against her head, a scream cutting through the air and deafening her - a scream she realized was coming from her mouth.
Only a minor pain took hold of her as she was thrown forward; whiplashed. It was such a bright world with such dark shadows. She fell into one, spinning around and around - bright red obscured her vision . . . then there was nothing - the music cut abruptly; she was no longer a solid Susan but a Susan that had cracked and broke before she even got home.
Don't go Susan. Don't go to heaven. Something's burning . . .
I want to kiss you like the sun kisses Venus with its warmth. This is why.
I . . . you . . . David.
--
Creegan felt something as he looked in the side view mirror at Branca's house growing smaller - he couldn't explain what it was. It was the same feeling he had just before he came to that house . . . the white house with the white cat . . . tacky ski-mask perp. His heart beat faster and faster and it grew stronger as Mark was saying something about the case.
Stainless. Stainless. Stainless. Black fiber. An image flashed of a shoe near Branca's car. Vehicle break failure.
" . . . he made a plea bargain to . . ."
Stainless. Stainless. Black-Drop Effect. Furious Angel. Susan means 'lily.' Dolce and Gabbana perfume. Black gloves. The expensive designer dress somewhere in his apartment. No one could afford that with such a meager salary - someone would have had to kill to get something like that.
His hands gripped his thighs, palms growing clammy and finally Rivers noticed his abnormal state. "Hey man, something wrong?" They had just pulled into the OSC Headquarters and he wanted to scream.
"Go back."
Rivers opened his car door and stopped. "What . . .?"
"Go back." This is why this is why this is why this is why . . . His scar throbbed right along with his heart.
"Why? What the hell for? We're already here -"
Creegan lunged for Rivers' jacket, dragging him forcefully back in and setting his face right in front of the agent's. "Now. Go backNOW."
Rivers studied him for only a second, taking in what exactly was being asked of him. Seeing that look on his face and he knew better than to question anything else. "All right man, we're going." He closed the door, started the engine and floored it.
--
Notes: OK so there's chappie 11! I think we're about 3/4's done with this story. Wrapping up my first TE fic will bring a few tears to the eye, [sniff!] Someday I'll write a rather shippy Breegan fic [not that this wasn't lol] - and if others would like, there's always a Rivanca (Rivers-Branca) plot that's waiting to be spoiled. :D I didn't come up with that term, it was in the TE forum!! It wasn't me I tell you! haha. Okidoke! I wish I could've gotten to see when Venus passed over the sun, but I didn't know about it until recently. I love eclipses, anything of the like, etcetera. Don't want to become an astrologist or an astronomer or anything, though. Terms and different definitions are hard to come by at times - makes me almost wish for a beta reader. Eh.
My Goddess! Somebody like chapter 10! lol:
NBLkolt: My God . . . I am so FRIGGIN' HAPPY at all the reviews you gave me. Jesus le Christ . . . I loved every single one of them. You actually gave me a very good review, with some critique but a good critique! I love a good critiquing!! Jeezus, how can I thank you?? Wait, don't answer that, lol, I think you'll say, 'by writing more chapters!' Haha! It amazes me so much how anyone [besides me] can stand reading my stories more than once. Ah. OH! You read my mind - are you psychic?! Because as soon as I read your review about Susan's name meaning lily, and that it was in the recent chapter, it was spooky! Your mentioning it had great timing! Holy flaming cow. Not a coincidence - but woohoo - that was a great psychic experience! lol Thank you so much again.
Yellow Mellow: Wow, I thought 6 pages was long enough but hey, if you want longer, I'll give ya longer! LOL Thank you so much. Stay mellow. Peace.
Galxychld: LOL I love how you notice the little-big things! About Susan and baking and slapping and holding a gun. Very sharp eye you have there. :D Yes, even though they try to deny it, they do love each other - in my fic anyway lol! Susan just about gave it away in this chapter but David didn't make her spit it out. I like it that way. Makes more room to come out with it later. ;D
GeorgieQ: You've read this story more than once?! Holy crap. Another frivolous reader, lol! How do you do it, I just wanna know, haha. I can't stand reading my stories more than like, two times - I just write out the chapters and if I need to go back to look something up for a reference, that's the only time I do reread something.
Self Injured: Hey, I got your e-mail! Man, I wish you the VERY best get-well wishes of all time. Man. I wouldn't be able to stand being in bed for that long - I'd crawl if I have to, learn how to pop a wheelie in a wheelchair, trip people with my crutches. You take it easy, you hear me? Don't walk it off like some people try to, haha! Oh and yes. I forgive ye.
VivianAeryn: Jumping up and down? Wow, don't break your chair lol. Oh, and Aeryn - I love that spelling! I might name my kid that someday. Either that or Michaela - but my sister's planning on a babe next year so if it's a girl, she's stealing that name. :D ah well. Good for her. Thanx for reading!
Jenna: All right! I hope you survived - seems like a lifetime since I updated, doesn't it?? LOL It does to me actually. Sorry it took so long sweetie! I hope you enjoyed the sugary Creeganca sweetness!
SassyAngel05: I am so HONORED that you took the time to hit that review button and type a paragraph for me. I hate making people review, so I do feel special to get one from you! I'd love to read one of your fics - and I wouldn't worry about capturing their characters too much. Just work off of the show and what other people represent Creegan as, or even Branca. Heck, I'll even help you, haha. I haven't even seen the Pilot episode, or Justine, or . . . ah, can't remember, but yeah! lol Thanx again for your review, I appreciated it a lot.
Hockey Gurl: I'm sorry I ended it there! I hope this long, agonizing chapter more than makes up for it! Thank you for reviewing!!
Kaitland: I'm glad you agree with me about the word love. Michael . . . hm, well, it wasn't really my idea, just that everyone seemed to have called him Michael, and I don't recall ever hearing his name mentioned but I thought it must have slipped past me, that his real name was probably Michael. So there he is. LOL Damn you know too much of the Hallie ruining the Breeganesque moment! Aye carumba.
Jennifer: I hope you liked this action, lol! I have to be able to watch more TE episodes to measure their romantic level . . . so for now they aren't going to bed one another in some angst-filled one-night stand just because. Hm. I'm so considering it for another fic though.
Alamo Girl: Two reviews! Sheesh, there ya go again! lol Thank you so much that you liked Chapter 10. I wasn't sure anyone would buy it as readily, but I'm so glad you did! And wow . . . you almost cried? I'd have to be on a very emotional day for me to cry from a fic. Haha, I'm glad you liked the coffee scene. Sexy? Yeah, sad sexy more like. I would PAY and then some for that to happen on the show. Holy God, would I!! LOL Thanks again - I was looking out for you again so here you go!
Mrs. Rhett Butler: Flattered am I! Wow, my best chapter yet?? Jeezus haha! I'm SO glad you think so. I think my personal fave is . . . Hm . . . Probably Chapter 9: Pretty Devil - or even Chapter 6: Male-Bonding Experience with Rivers 'cuz I think he's a great guy, the camaraderie between Creegan and Rivers is just as good as Jeffrey Donovan's and Bradley Cooper's. Chapter 10 would come in pretty good right about then, haha. I'm sorry about your paper cuts! Well, you know what they say, no pain no gain [personally I think 'they' are full of it]. I'll probably look up Roswell once I get the time [probably tomorrow haha since I'm currently unemployed]. Thank you again for reviewing, you seem like an awesome person from what I saw of your profile page, and those pictures you have of you and your friends. Oh yes - I do my research, mm-hm! ;-D
asd: I'm so glad you loved it! I know, I know, I ended it like that 'cuz I thought it was getting too long. :D I guess I was wrong, huh? Ah well. This one's twice as long. I hope you liked it. Can't wait for your approval! LOL Peace.