A/N Another post We'll Always Have the Beach one-shot, I think I've got one more in mind (maybe two. Maybe) Don't own them, just the plot. Enjoy!
He rolled over to find the other side of the bed empty and cold. He frowned when he realized she wasn't there, but there was a note on his nightstand that told him that she had run home to shower and change. He didn't blame her, it wouldn't look good if she showed up rumpled wearing the same clothes she had worn the day before when the crew had seen her leave. But she could have at least said goodbye and not just gotten up and left in the middle of the night.
He rolled out and made his way into the shower. He was still half asleep, he was getting to old for rampant sex at all hours of the night, he needed his sleep. She had stayed, at least part of the night, which was looking good for him, it was something else that was a mark in his book, the fact that they had a physical relationship. She wasn't sure if she and Woody had ever had something physical.
He got dressed and climbed into his car. He had no idea where he was going but he just drove, the radio blasting, some rock station that he had come across and he laughed at the sheer irony in the song, the chorus of which seemed aptly appropriate. "I want you, I don't know if I need you, but I'd die to find out." Seemed to sum up his relationship pretty well.
He found himself at the bay, sitting on the shore skipping stones over the murky water, thinking. He wanted her, there was no doubt about that, she was absolutely gorgeous and no one could refute that, and from the day he met her he had known he was gone, that he could never go back and think he loved someone the way he loved her. But did he need her?
The more that he thought about it, the more he realized that he did-without her he had nothing, not anymore. He didn't have his job, he didn't have a marriage, his daughter was in college, she was the last thing left in his life-he loved her, and even if she was only a friend, he would still have her. He needed her in his life, if only as a presence that seemed to echo hope.
And how many times had he offered himself in place of her? It wasn't that he was noble, far from it, he was just trying to save her. Every time she put herself in a place where she could be harmed, he offered to go instead, he offered himself instead of her. He remembered listening to the audio feed from the consulates office after that whole fiasco and when he heard the gunshot and Woody call her name, his heart stopped. He thought she had gotten in the way, that she could be dead, that he should have been adamant about staying instead of her, but after she was OK, relief flooded him.
She still had so much to live for, it was the only reason he would tell her off of him, what could she want with an old cynical bastard like him? But she obviously saw something in him, enough to keep up a relationship with him if nothing else. He just wished she'd make up her mind.
If she choose Woody he could live with it, he didn't mind the young detective, and as even he said, they'd always have that wonderful week at the beach, as well as the night that he had just spent, and everything else, and they would still be friends, no matter what happened, he loved her too much. And like that quote, if you truly love something, let it go, he was willing to let her go if she wanted it.
He would do anything for her, and she knew it, and the thing that he loved most was that she didn't exploit it, she could have, she could have used him and done whatever she wanted to him, but she didn't, she told him that she knew she would mess with him and lead him on, but he didn't care.
He loved her and that was what mattered. Not if she stayed the night, or if she picked him or Woody-he knew that Woody didn't have her heart for his sole fault of being too good to be true. He knew that she didn't want to be the woman she would be if she married him, but he didn't fault her for wanting that, wanting the stability that cam with him, the all American white bread poster boy of a boy scout.
And he loved her, but so did Woody, he didn't blame her for being torn, if all she wanted was someone to love her, well she had two options. Woody, suburban wonder child, or him, the old cynical man with too much baggage. And he wouldn't blame her for choosing Woody for all the reasons she didn't want to. The detective was a good man, if nothing else, and would try his hardest to make her happy.
But still, there was a glimmer of hope in wanting her, it was the one thing he wanted the most. He loved her and her indecisiveness played into his hand, the fact that she knew that she didn't want Woody gave him a chance, and it was a chance that he wished more than anything that she would take.