Human After All

Save Tonight

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A/N: I swear, you guys blow me out of the water! Thank you all so much for such wonderful support - I couldn't do this without you! For your GREAT reviews, I made this one extra-long ;)

An extra special warm thanks goes out to Joey, who edits my mistakes away!


Save tonight

And fight the break of dawn

Come tomorrow

Tomorrow I'll be gone


"55-David, respond to a domestic dispute at Grant and Arthur. Weapons and injuries reported."

The contemptuous second of silence following the pronouncement was broken grumpily by a low growl from Ty, who was scarcely beginning to defrost from the last excursion outdoors. Bosco seemed to be just as inconvenienced.

"Aw, come on! Not even a freakin' break between one brainless moron to the next," the hotheaded officer groaned loudly and rolled his eyes, an affronted frown unbecomingly creasing his handsome features.

Ty simply agreed, nodding knowingly and somewhat intolerantly, understanding the level of Bosco's annoyance perfectly. Their day had been heavily peppered with the usual idiocy and futility that was unfortunately all too common, relegating the pair to run after run without an end in sight. "Yeah, seriously," he replied unenthusiastically, shaking his head as he tipped it back and sighed, "I'm starting to feel like an underpaid, overworked babysitter."

Providentially, the frigidly gusty day was quickly dimming into nightfall, and the dark of night normally ebbed such activities to some extent. The added severity of the forthcoming nor'easter was just another great reason that the criminals had to clear the streets and remain dormant. Ty could only hope that they would do so.

"God must really love stupid people, 'cause he sure made a lot of them," Bosco growled spitefully, turning the RMP around to head towards their latest assignment.


Spotting the dispute couldn't have been easier, for the two men in question were standing in the street dead-center, blood running freely down their faces, one brandishing a broom handle, the other cowering and trying to avoid another blow from his aggressive antagonist. Infusing the situation with dramatic lighting from their red and blues, Doc and Carlos sat about a hundred yards back, waiting in Adam-55-3 for Ty and Bosco to break up the fight before they moved in.

"Wow, déjà vu," Bosco muttered in an unimpressed manner as he drove the cruiser right up behind the undistinguished conflict. "Haven't we seen this one, like, a half-million times before? You'd think with all the so-called evolution goin' on, people could think up better ways to break the law."

Opening the door ushered in the frostiness of the twilight hour, and caused both men to involuntarily cringe at the unwelcome draft.

"Damn... If it gets any colder out here, I'll believe that Hell can freeze over," Ty shivered as he exited the warmth of the car. His exposed face was instantly clouted with raining ice, certifying his previous statement with unsympathetic authenticity. He rolled his eyes and sighed, halfheartedly trudging after his partner as he groaned out another objection to the ungodly conditions, "And now we have sleet, dammit."

Hell just might have frozen over, it seemed, or at least it felt as though any and all warmth had been sucked out of the city by a vicious vacuum, and then replaced by a strong wind whipping tiny ice shards at anything that stood in its way. But the weather quickly lost precedence in the conversation, and was exchanged for the ardent commands of an annoyed Bosco.

"Alright, enough!" he hollered loudly, drawling his nightstick as he strode up toward the obvious provoker. "Cut it out, you! Put the stick down!"

"Like hell!" the man barked, taking another swing at his recoiling neighbor, the rod producing a noisy whoosh from the high velocity of the attack. And then, as if his blatant disobedience wasn't enough rebelliousness to suffice, the antagonistic man proceeded to fling a warning arc at the two officers. Neither flinched.

"Com'on, do what he says," Ty snapped, stepping up beside his partner while unclipping the snap of his gun holster, ready to pull his weapon if need be. "You don't want to disobey him, trust me."

"What, your friend 'macho cop' or somethin'?"

"No," Bosco began in a terse tone, slapping his nightstick against his palm angrily and taking a deliberate step towards the angry guy, his blue eyes flashing stridently, "I just have -- how'd they put it, Davis? Anger management issues?"

"Yeah, except I think it was more like 'maniacal tendencies'."

"Oh, that's right," Bosco nodded sarcastically, his face twisting into an irate glower as he proceeded to hurl back his baton as though he were on the verge of striking the perp in the head. "Now put the damn stick down, or I'll mess your face up so bad, your own mother won't recognize you... I MEAN IT!"

Per request, the man promptly dropped the broomstick and raised his hands in the air indifferently, a glimmer of fear lighting in his widened eyes. But his pretentious mannerisms continued to fully portray a foolish and reckless noncompliance.

"Shit, man--" he began to spit out, shaking his head slowly as if he were displeased with the way he was being dealt with. Bosco was fast, nevertheless, and had already rushed in and swiftly smacked the back of the perp's knees with his nightstick, forcing the man to his hands on the icy ground.

Fully satisfied with his efforts, Bosco wasted no time in seizing his collar by the back of the neck. "Not such a ball-buster now, wise-guy, huh? I got some pretty bracelets that I think will look so nice on you," the provoked and peeved officer sniped, dangling his cuffs in front of the downed perp before he yanked him to his feet and harshly directed him to the back bumper of the RMP. "Put your paws on the trunk, moron."

The man begrudgingly placed his hands in the cold metal, but glared the officer in the eye defiantly, as though on the brink of snapping out another insolent retort or moving from his ordered position.

Bosco, thoroughly not in the mood for any backtalk or insubordination, was quick to lash out, "Take your hands off the car, and I'll make your birth certificate a worthless document. Capeesh?"

Ty stifled a snicker at his partner's choice of words, and was recompensed with a sideways smirk and slight nod of head. Bosco was obviously enjoying himself.

"You think you're so tough, huh, jus' 'cause you're a cop," the overconfident, hostile perpetrator sneered in an idiotic effort to remain burly and cocky, boldly pushing himself up off the cruiser. His imprudent choice of words and actions did nothing but feed his arresting officer's anger and annoyance.

"No, you've got that wrong, pal," Bosco snapped gruffly as he slammed him down again, forcing all of the air out of the angry man's lungs with a satisfying pop. "I'm even tougher without the badge and gun."

The perp groaned in pain, but was relentless with his quest to become the most dim-witted delinquent to date, brutally kicking Bosco's shin with his heel. "Faggot," he muttered boisterously as he gasped for air.

That did it for Bosco, and he yanked the guy's head up buy his hair, and then hissed spitefully right into his ear, "Are you always this stupid, or are you just making a special effort today?"

"Ten bucks on the former," Ty bet dryly, helping his partner snap on cuffs and then shove the squirming man into the backseat.

"You have a right to remain silent-" Ty began, but a very irked Bosco cut him off, finishing their scripted monologue in his typical snide fashion, "-Yeah, and anything you say will be misquoted, and then used against you... Jag-off."

"You guys okay?" Doc called from the back of the bus, where he was tending the injured butt of the brawl. A confused frown was clear upon his face, but he didn't seem too worried about the two officers. They looked to have everything under control.

Bosco slammed the door in their detainee's face, scowling at him through the window. "Super," he shot back, hoping to end all conversation and return to the warmth of the cruiser, but Carlos was already on his way over, never one to miss out on some good action.

"Bagged another idiot, huh?" the young medic quipped as he rubbed his hands together for warmth, his breath a billowing white cloud in the sub-zero air. "Saw him kick you, Bos."

"Yeah, yeah..." Bosco waved him off as he made for the driver's side door, smirking facetiously and shaking his head in the process. "But calling this guy and idiot would be an insult to all the stupid people."


Sleet speckled the windshield in even layers, interrupted by the swift curve of the wipers as they dutifully pushed the minuscule shavings to the fringe of the glass, only to be mocked by a new layer of hoarfrost to clean away. Old Man Winter seemed to be blowing raspberries at the city, a precursor of the rage that was building in his bowels.

The ambulance, encircled by red and white flashing lights and heralded by the strident drone of sirens, was justifiably cautious with its speed, taking care not to slip or skid on the accumulating ice. If the weather had chosen to cooperate, Bobby could have made it to their destination five minutes prior to then, but in lieu of clean, dry streets that were familiar and easily navigated, he found himself easing on the brake pedal more then the accelerator.

"It's a good thing this call's minor, 'cause we're really burnin' rubber here, Bobby," Kim noted sarcastically as she peered out her window at the sky, watching the churning clouds as they rolled in. "Damn storm."

"What street was it again? Elm?" asked her partner as he squinted ahead into the dusk for a better view of the street signs that interspersed the avenue that they were cruising down. The headlights of the bus weren't fully picking up the reflective green of the road markers, and the conditions outside were causing it to be increasingly hard to make out even a few letters.

"Nope, Elm was an hour ago. 1273 Maple Street," Kim rattled off and then took a long sip of her steaming coffee, undeterred by Bobby's absentmindedness, as she understood fully the reason why he'd forgotten. "Third 'tree' address in the last four hours. Go figure."

Her comment seemed to amuse the good-tempered Bobby, and he chuckled, his mouth curving jokily into a lop-sided grin.

"Ahhh, suburbia..." he sighed, "where they tear out the trees and then name streets after them."


Growing more and more bored by the minute, Bosco strummed his fingers on the steering wheel, impatiently glaring at the dashboard clock as if to will it into speeding ahead a few hours. Thoroughly disenchanted by the early hour readout, he frowned at the taunting numbers and bit back a disgruntled groan. Although bored and antsy, he was grateful for the small breather that they had been afforded, and sank back into his seat with a listless sigh. At least he wasn't out in the mess of a storm that was swiftly sweeping in. Boredom was the lesser of the two evils.

Davis, on the other hand, was completely absorbed in the daily, his brow furrowed as he read and then re-read the latest reports, eyes dancing back and forth across the pages as they devoured the columns.

"Hey," Ty piped up as he shook out the newspaper that held his attention, dispelling some of the lazy flaccidness of the slowly curling broadsheet, "that murderer that we took down a while back just got the death penalty. Says here, he gets maximum security and three life sentences without the possibility of parole -- plus the eternal blink."

"Electric chair, huh?"

Becoming interested, Bosco's dark cobalt eyes turned from their somewhat diligent surveillance to gaze at his partner, a rare flicker of sadness unpredictably lighting in them. Ty knew, however, that his partner's troubled expression was not on behalf of the criminal's punishment, but for the victims that had fallen to the merciless hand.

"Yep," Ty nodded.

"Well, he deserves it after what he did to those woman..." Bosco said, his tone soft but simultaneously terse with resentment. It was obvious that the case had done its best to scar the officer, leaving him resentful and disconsolate in its heavy wake. Because of his own involvement in the case, Ty could relate, but he lacked the ardor and fervor that Bosco's liquid blue eyes held.

"Yeah, maybe..."

"Maybe?!" Bosco spat. "What, you think that hackin' up a half-dozen innocent girls to pieces doesn't deserve the deep fry? You think he needs to live? You've gotta be kiddin' me..."

Ty was silent for a long moment, pondering his stance on the death penalty. "I don't know, I guess I never really thought about it before... Each side has its own pros and cons..."

"Don't be so open minded, Ty," Bosco snorted, "or your brains will fall out."

The smart-aleck remark was met by a soft chuckle from Ty, easing the weightiness of the moment to some extent and drawing a smile to light his features. "Yeah, man, whatever..." he smiled as he waved him off.

"I don't know about you," Bosco shook his head dolefully as if disappointed with the world, "but after all the stupidity I've seen today, I don't think they should use the electric chair -- they need to use electric bleachers."


Spying what his eyes were on the lookout for, Doc pressed his foot on the brake and flipped up the blinker light to signal the forthcoming curbside stop.

"What're you doing?" Carlos asked in a less-then-patient tone, a brow raised indifferently, his mouth distorting into a half-scowl, suggesting his disapproval of the sudden delay.

The endless stream of questioning was never unexpected from Carlos, and Doc usually found himself either ignoring his partner completely, or just treating each query and claptrap voicing as rhetorical. This method seemed to work to some extent, typically affording him a few seconds of quiet between the perpetual idioms and interrogations.

Choosing to follow his customary path of silence, Doc afforded young Carlos nothing but a slight shake of his head before pulling the lumbering bus off to the side of the street.

"Why are we stopping?" was the next blurb to spout out, and Carlos was leaning forward now, neck outstretched so that he was a mere six inches from his mentor's blank stare.

Letting out a soft sigh of annoyance, Doc nodded ahead to the dark sidewalk currently illuminated by their headlights. The crumpled heap that marred the ground was barely discernable as human, but Doc had seen far too many cruel winters hit the city, and was an old hand at finding out the homeless. The man he'd spotted that night lay on the frozen ground, curled up in a tight fetal position as he struggled to retain body heat in the frigidly bitter night.

"We got time between calls, so we're gonna help get some people to shelters." Doc's statement was simple, as was the delivery. He had a heart for the people of his city, and wasn't about to leave any man or woman to freeze to death on the streets if he could help it. His empathy and compassion were admirable at best, justifying the soft kindheartedness in his passionate brown eyes, but Carlos seemed to find this proposal of good deeds another pesky bother in his 'hassle-ridden' schedule.

"What?" he hissed, crossing his arms brashly across his chest, his defiant stare clearly stating a great deal of annoyance. "Now we're a taxi service?"

Doc shot him a disappointed frown, hoping that it would be enough to shut his immature partner up. Alas, Carlos was not one to take hints, or even flat-out decrees for that matter, and continued on audaciously, "C'mon, we have better stuff to do. The shelter's like two blocks away - they can walk if they want."

"Yeah, and what if they can't? Should we just let 'um freeze to death out here? Kim and Bobby already picked up one frozen corpse this afternoon. You want more tomorrow? Have a heart, Carlos - most of these people can barely get around as it is," he lectured, shaking his head in frustrated disgust.

"Oh, okay," the younger medic spat, "so sorry I'm not as righteous as the great and mighty 'Saint Doc', but I sure as hell not heartless."

"Whatever, Carlos. Just help me out, alright?"

"Yeah, yeah, fine... They'd better be grateful that I'm freezin' my ass off for their sorry ones..." he muttered as he moved to exit the bus.

Doc found himself grinning slightly and shaking his head at his partner's fairly predictable response. Yeah, so Carlos had a big mouth, a careless attitude now and again, and a less then compassionate demeanor, but he'd never quite been able to mask his soft spot for people completely behind his hard-bitten, smart-ass exterior. Perhaps one day he'd be able to drop his facade entirely and fess up to the fact that he did have a rather big heart. But for now, the indifferent bastard of a Carlos would have to do.


"Hey, can we pull over up here?" Ty requested, gesturing at the gas station ahead. "I, uh...have to use the 'little boy's room'..."

Much to Ty's chagrin, Bosco's head snapped around quickly, and he stared at his partner like he'd suddenly grown another head, his brow raised and then quickly lowered into a confused frown.

"What?" he spat incredulously, frowning and half-smirking in tandem, clearly knocked for six at the nondescript expression. Never failing to live up to his reputation, Bosco then continued on with his derision, drawing out the words leisurely while displaying an overt combination of mock and disbelief. "The little boy's room?!"

A bit surprised by the unexpected ridiculing, Ty simpered almost sheepishly, ducking and shaking his head slightly, and then staring straight ahead again in apparent awkwardness. "Yeah..."

"Well," his ostentatious counterpart began, cocking his head smugly and lowering his voice until it suggested the exact amount of sarcasm and scorn that he thought befitted Ty's unintentionally entertaining comment. "I don't know about you, Davis, but my boys ain't little..."

Of course, Bosco would turn it into one of his legendary ego trips.

"Dude -- it's just an expression," Ty chuckled, smiling at his partner's overstated narcissism and the way it was so easy to throw the zealous officer for a loop. "Chill out."

"Central to available units, respond to a rape at 605 York, apartment 4C," the radio interrupted their manly banter, dispelling the good-humored fun with the report of the discouragingly grave incident.

The two men fell silent at the call; jaunty smiles instantly wiped clean from their young faces as each simultaneously dreaded having to answer. Rapes, although all too common in the big city, were particularly hard on Bosco, and only served to maliciously remind him of the brutal ways his own mother was abused for so many years. As for Ty, when he would see the horror and desolation inflicted on the victim, he could only think of such a crime happening to one of his sisters, and the thought was always enough to throw his stomach into furious knots.

"55-David, 605 York, 10-4," Bosco quietly responded as he pulled the RMP into the street once more, sending the lights and sirens glaring and blaring with a swift flick of his wrist.

"Second time this week, huh?" Ty commented distractedly, begging to fill the abruptly ill-at-ease silence with idle drivel.

"Two times a year is too much for me," Bosco spat softly, his tone lined with animosity and bitterness. Ty couldn't agree more. There was that look that the rape victims always wore, an ethereal, waiflike look that spoke of violation and soul-deep despair. This one would probably be no different, and would most likely haunt a dream or two in the near future.

"Yeah..." Ty concurred in a low voice, still completely in awe and dismayed at the merciless cruelty of humankind. "Yeah, me too..."


"Wow..." whispered an obviously nervous Gusler. He glanced at Sullivan, biting his lower lip as he did so, his adrenaline beginning to rush from excitement.

His senior partner was a whole lot less moved, to say the least, and hadn't shown any disturbance at the proclamation of a rape. Sully, after years of practice, was very good at repressing emotion, and had unperturbedly called in as backup to 55-David with not so much as a voice inflection. He had no desire to induce any more stimulation on his trainee, which would surely throw the kid into a nervous breakdown the way he was going. First 'real' call, and Gusler looked about ready to wet himself. Sully bit back the urge to growl in frustration.

"Put on the lights." He opted instead to resort to simple and understandable commands, rather then commenting on the nature of the crime or what horrors were in store for the young kid. No doubt, today would leave quite a mark, burning images permanently into Gusler's fresh, naïve mind, and Sully wanted no part in making it any worse then it had to be. If he were to remain competent, so might his trainee...or so he hoped.

"Yessir," Gusler breathed, reaching to flip the switch. His hands shook noticeably, and he kept swallowing at what Sully assumed was a large lump forming in his throat, eyes blinking rapidly from enthused agitation.

Fresh meat.

Davis, the seasoned officer mentally groaned, where the hell are you?


Lamps were broken, tables overturned, glass shattered unceremoniously across the floor, the front door left wide open in the wake of a hurried exit. Disaster marred the modest, homey apartment with the sickening promise of violent devastation.

But the destroyed apartment had nothing on the victim, who was standing all but naked in the bedroom, her dark auburn hair dampened with sweat and hanging limply in her face, green eyes reddened and swollen from hot tears, underwear brutally shredded from her battered body. Choking cries sadistically wracked the room, smashing into the chests of the responding officers with heartbreaking force. Wavering somewhat and swaying in place, the woman was beside herself, clutching a phone in her sticky, bloodied hands as she sobbed hysterically.

Sill always appalled by the ruthlessness of rape, the two cops were taken aback at the sight of the panic-stricken, terrified young woman, and hesitated noticeably before entering the room.

Bosco was the first to recover from the temporary standstill, and made his way slowly to her side, speaking softly in his 'don't-spook-the-victim' voice while holding his hands up as an illustration of his non-offensive intentions. "Hey, hey... It's okay - were here now... You're safe, it's okay..."

The phone that was clutched in her trembling fingers buzzed as it spoke mellifluously; the individual on the other end perceptibly trying to console the poor woman. It took a second for Ty to realize this, and he moved in himself, gently prying the plastic receiver out of her hand as Bosco struggled to calm her choked and terrified, gasping sobs. But his well-intended efforts only saw fit to send her into even greater agitation and she shook her head over and over again, desperately fighting her hysteria as though she was trying to tell them something.

"It's okay, it's okay," Bosco soothed over and over again, discreetly grabbing up a thin blanket from a nearby chair and wrapping it around her heaving shoulders to swathe her nakedness. He led her to the edge of the blood-spattered bed, and helped her lower her bruised and broken body down to the sheets.

The phone was still murmuring with one-sided conversation, and Ty hastened to answer the concerned prattle. "Hello?"

"This is the emergency dispatch. Have the police arrived?" a man promptly responded, clearly worried, but entirely competent.

"Yeah...yeah, we have," Ty stated distractedly as he watched Bosco squat down in front of the woman, showing a rare sighting of empathy and commiseration as he kindheartedly took her bloodied hands into his own, all the while still attempting to calm her with low, gentle words of consolation.

"I couldn't get much out of her, she was crying so hard -- but she said something about her daughter... Is the little girl okay?"

Suddenly stricken with alarm, Ty scanned the room quickly with a practiced eye, and noted the absence of any such child. "No. No, I don't see her... Send back-up forthwith," he clipped brusquely into the receiver before hanging it up, instantly extremely unnerved.

Upon hearing the abruptly tense tone of his partner's voice, Bosco's head snapped up, his expression unmistakably confused. Thinking only of the prospect of an abducted child, Ty disregarded the questioning gaze and dropped down to his knees next to his mystified cohort.

"Ma'am?" he started, articulating slowly and succinctly, his subdued and troubled manner pleading for her tears to stop for just a few seconds, or long enough to get information out of her quivering form. "Ma'am? Where's your little girl? Where's your daughter?"

Bosco immediately straightened and stiffened, his breath catching in his throat and dread lighting in his own eyes at the revelation of an involved child.

But Ty's semi-frenetic questions only sent the overwrought victim into an even more frenzied fit, and she struggled to breathe properly as her body supplicated for carbon dioxide enough.

"He...he...to-ok...her..." she managed to sob in a distraught whisper, her slender frame thrown into a spasm of trembling heaves as hysteria overtook her completely, fleecing her of physical control. "T-took...Julie...!"

"Oh my God," Bosco whispered as he stood abruptly, eyes wide and mouth hanging open from shock and repulsion. His partner's reaction was similar, but the equally sickened Ty also struggled with the urge to vomit as his ears took in the horrifying news.

"When? Just now? How long ago?" Bosco's frantic queries aroused even more tears, but also a subtle nod off her head. "How long ago?!" he repeated assertively, harried for the amount of time that the man had ahead of them, his bright blue eyes nearly gray with fear.

"F-five...minutes...m-maybe...I don't...k-know... He...knocked...me out..." she sobbed, her cries mounting to an apex of piercing, grating shrieks. The woman looked as though she was on the verge of passing out, and Ty grabbed her elbow to prevent her from pitching headfirst onto the hard floor.

Footsteps and a loud knock on the nearby doorframe alerted the two officers to the arrival of their back up, and Ty was relieved to find Sully standing at the door, the wide-eyed new kid tailing closely behind. Bosco ignored their presence, however, and pressed the woman for further details, biting back the impatience that nipped at his voice as he bent down once more to look her straight in the eye. "What'd he look like?"

The molested woman gasped and heaved for adequate breath before she choked out a meager description, "T-tall, thin...white w-with...dark hair... Was wearing...a green coat... Help her! S-she's...only four!"

Bosco nodded and bounced up onto his feet again, nearly shaking from nervous anxiety. "Don't worry, we'll find her!" he promised hastily and turned; nearly running out the door past their bewildered back up.

Ty hurried after him, clapping Sully on the arm as he left, explaining the circumstances in a low murmur, "She's raped and the guy took her four-year-old. Take care of this?"

"Sure," Sully consented, nodding his head as a look of stunned astonishment and distain skewed his even features. "Go!"


Bosco had the RMP started and was on the verge of pulling out from the curb when Ty jumped in, starting to become out of breath from the recent four-floor dash down the stairs and the nervous consternation that was causing his heart to race madly.

"Which way?" Bosco bellowed, half to himself, half to his partner.

Making a rudimentary snap decision, Ty nodded his head to the north and reached for his seatbelt. "That way."

"55-David to Central, we have a possible child abduction from the rape case. Four-year-old girl missing. Suspect is a white male, tall, dark hair, and wearing a green coat. We're headed north on York," Bosco belted into the CB while hurtling down the street.

"10-4, David."

"How far d'you think he got?" Ty wondered aloud, stress pulling at his voice.

"Don't know... Just keep your eyes peeled."

A few seconds of edgy silence swept the tension into harsh reality as the two pondered the severely grave predicament of the young child. Without a doubt, the accosting rapist would have no qualms performing unspeakable acts on the baby, and the thought was nearly too much to bear.

Bosco found himself grimacing at the validity of the horrendous events that had just transpired, a familiar sickened nausea filling his chest and stomach with acidy vehemence. Deep breaths calmed his angry nerves to some extent, and sloppily repressed the tears of rage that threatened to soften the suddenly hard lines around his eyes.

"Son-of-a-bitch!" he snapped furiously after his searching gaze yielded nothing but normal activates on the nearly deserted sidewalks, and a horrified infuriation consumed him as he slammed his white-knuckled, clenched fist into the steering wheel. "I'll kill him! I swear to God, I'll kill him... Son-of-a-bitch!"

The expected outrage did nothing for Ty except instill the dread that consumed him, and provoke the nervous tension filling the RMP with heavy force. Bosco continued to rant, but the rapid pulsing of his heartbeat quickly stamped out his partner's incensed voice.

God, help us... Keep that little girl safe... Don't let him... Ty couldn't bring himself to finish the hasty prayer, and instead distracted his apprehensive self with searching the evacuated avenue for anything green, but was rewarded with nothing.

Intersections and crosswalks all melded into one green-jacketless blur as they sped, and Bosco felt his hands becoming numb from his unearthly tight grip on the wheel. Forcing himself to calm slightly, he took a deep breath and exhaled, blinking away the fog of sheer ire that clouded his vision.

And that's when he saw it: a flash of dark green fabric up ahead a block or so, moving fast. Running, it seemed.

"Shit, Ty!" he hissed as he waved his hand at the figure, now discernibly a man wearing a heavy green parka, slowed down by the unmistakable form of a small child in his arms. Blonde, flaxen curls peeked out from his shoulder, contrasting sickeningly against the dark of the coat. Nausea made it's way up his throat, but he suppressed it with a vigorous swallow and a shaky breath.

"Oh my God," Ty whispered, immediately unbuckling his seatbelt and reaching for his gun. Nerves pacified somewhat by the discovery, mounted to a dreadful climax once again at the proposal of a chase, or even the mere capture. God only knew what would ensue in the moments to come, and the fear of the unknown was heavy and terrifying and nerve-racking all at once.

"Gotcha now, you bastard!" Bosco breathed through gritted teeth, twisting the wheel sharply, cutting across two lanes to align the car with the fleeing rapist. "I'll kill you..."

Without warning, the man stopped his malevolent flight, screaming to a halt beside a dark burgundy pickup-truck that was obviously his intended getaway vehicle. His momentary halt only served to give him reason to glance around uneasily, and his edgy gaze quickly settled on the approaching police car.

"Oh, shit..." Ty murmured when they were no more then a half-block away, taking in the expression etched on the man's face as he shoved his package into the front seat. Shock flitted across his features, but he was fast and quickly recovered, jumping in as well and slamming the door behind him. The glaring red of his taillights instantly illuminated the darkened street as he ignited the engine and prepared to take off. "...Oh, man."

"Dammit!"

Bosco was, by this time, completely enraged with passionate fury, his blood boiling wrathfully as he begged his body to cooperate and stifle the nervous queasiness heaving through him. His emotions clashed with his instincts, and he fought to keep a level head and do the correct and most advantageous thing. Right then, it was to stay calm, pursue the vehicle, and pray to God that everything would turn out okay. "Call it in, Ty," he barked in an incensed whisper as he pounced once more on the accelerator.

His partner was already a step ahead, however, and was holding the microphone to his lips, snapping a call in to Central Dispatch, "55-David to Central, suspect has procured a vehicle and is heading north on York. We're in full pursuit -- requesting backup."

"10-4, David, continue pursuit. We'll get you back up."

Bosco found himself nodding at the dispatcher, as if the faceless voice could see he approval. A quick glance at the speedometer saw them speeding along the auspiciously vacant avenue at an alarming 65mph. The truck ahead showed no signs of slowing, and in fact, seemed to be picking up even more speed -- if that was at all possible.

"Bos," Ty gestured to the road lit by a few streetlights and the blue and white flashes of their lights. "Watch out for ice, man."

In the wake of the crime and shocking realization of a kidnapped child, it hadn't occurred to Bosco that there was indeed accumulating ice and sleet -- and now snow-- slicking the road. His practiced eyes took in the dark of an ice slick to the right and he tensed as he quickly swerved to avoid it, narrowly missed the deadly rime and skidding a few feet in the process. The RMP squealed in protest, sending off hideous resonations of warning as it fought wildly to stay in control.

"God-dammit!" he hissed, feeling his heart stop and then re-start once more, struggling with the steering wheel as it jerked back and forth, tires slipping and slewing on the icy road.

Ty was equally startled, and slammed back into his seat in an effort to steady himself. His gloved hand sought the 'Jesus bar' and held on for dear life, eyes squeezing shut reflexively. "Whoa, whoa, whoa...! Shit, man!"

"I got it, I got him," Bosco mumbled his meager consolation as he righted the cruiser once more. His blue eyes flashed angrily as he saw that the truck had managed to gain a quite a few yards on them in their fight with the ice, and was racing, almost obliviously, around a corner ahead. "Son-of-a-bitch's goin' to the Freeway," he remarked, though Ty knew exactly what the turn before them led to.

"Central," Ty called in, his voice breathy from the recent scare; "suspect is now headed west on 19th towards the Freeway. Where's our backup?"

Their beams instantly illumined green, federal thoroughfare signs as they themselves turned the corner, pronouncing the onramps that gave easy access to the highway traversing the street. Oddly, 19th street was peppered with a moderate amount of traffic -all businessmen heading for the freeway, no doubt-- and Bosco struggled to weave in and out of the fast-traveling automobiles.

"55-David, backup is on its way."

The snow was picking up at the moment, fiercely glazing the cruiser as it fell in ruthless magnitude, and hindering Bosco's view considerably. Vivid white scalded from the freeway above, headlights heralding the express traffic that raced along the overpass. The truck in question was undeterred by the clogged street, and managed to adeptly skirt in and out of the congestion as if it took no effort at all.

Enveloped in a heavy, edgy anger, Bosco found his jaw clenched severely, his heart racing and then nearly breaking at the awareness of the compromised child. Tears threatened to scald his vision once more and his stomach flipped violently, but he struggled against his rage and pushed the RMP to speed even faster.

When he caught the bastard, there would be Hell to pay...


Kurt Bitterman continued hugging the left lane, even though the unspoken highway etiquette was 'trucks to the right'. He wasn't in a hurry, but the cars that inundated the freeway were either speeding along in the left lane, or sluggishly crawling in the right. He preferred to spend as little time as possible traveling through New York City, and did his best to keep up with the minivan in front of him. His large dump truck was new and well taken care of, and didn't protest at the speed, even though he hauled over a ton of gravel, dirt, and sand in its bed. The load of earth would become useful when delivered, and was to be sent out to cover the snow that was presently coating the city, ironically.

Oldies music blared from his radio, pealing around the cozy cab with a cheerful rendition of the ever-popular 'Mrs. Robinson'. He found himself singing along to Simon and Garfunkel, bobbling his head and tapping the steering wheel to the beat of the familiar tune. Snow slapped against his windshield as he drove along, but hailing from Maine, he knew how to drive in bad weather and wasn't bothered in the least bit. In fact, his mind was far from the ruthless blizzard outside, but instead focused on thoughts of his wife back home. She would be snuggled up with a good book right now, a favorite pastime of hers...

Abruptly and unexpectedly, the wheel jerked out of his hands, veering the bulky truck to the left and into the oncoming lane of traffic.

"Oh God!" he screeched as he wrestled the steering wheel out of the vicious curve, easing on the brake as he slid across the first of two lanes. Past them, the steel of the guardrail taunted him with its inadequate barrier, and then the black of the void beyond it. "God help me!"

Horns blared, cars squealed and groaned with the sudden pressure of brakes being applied, but all he could hear was the grinding of his own vehicle as it took a hard left towards the metal railing that lined the overpass.


Ty blinked, his mouth falling open as his breath abandoned his lungs. The sight before him burned his vision, deadened his reflexes, and surged nausea throughout his tensed body. His eyes struggled to take in what he was seeing as his mind simultaneously begged to forget.

"Bosco!" he heard himself scream, his fingernails digging deeply into whatever they encountered. "Look out!"


To Be Continued... So...? I'd love to hear what you all think!

"Save Tonight" is by Eagle-Eye Cherry