I thought I might update this one again. Thank you all so much for your lovely comments, I really don't deserve them! Also a bit of a warning quite a bit of strong language in this one, and some innuendo.
"What a wicked game to play, to make me feel this way. What a wicked thing to do, to let me dream of you. What a wicked thing to say, you never felt this way. What a wicked thing to do, to make me dream of you" Wicked Game – Chris Isaak.
I stand outside work, staring up at the building, my arms and legs refusing to move as if something had frozen them to the spot. Sighing I glance around, watching as people stride by, lost in their own worlds. I'm not sure what time I left Bosco's. It was late anyway. Late or early. Depending on what way you look at it I suppose. I didn't even have time to grab a shower before I came to work. I went home, changed, had yet another cup of coffee and left. My eyes sting, and I'm sure the late night is evident in my face. I yawn, stretch my arms out and sigh again.
"Mornin' Yokas," a familiar voice says behind me. I turn and flash Davis a weak smile.
"Mornin'," I reply courteously. He takes one look at me and grins.
"Jeez, what kept you up all night?" he jokes. I fall into his stride, walking up to the front doors.
"Bosco," I reply running a hand through my hair. He raises his eyebrows and smiles mischievously. "Not like that," I say hastily. He's still smiling.
"I swear, we just talked," I say. He raises his hands up defensively.
"I never said you did anything else," he replies.
"The why the hell are you smirkin' like that?" I hiss.
"Relax Yokas," he chuckles, "God…you're getting very worked up there."
"Davis I'm warning you," I tell him placing my hands on my hips, feigning an anger that I don't really feel. His hand is now placed on the door ready to push it open. That damn smile is still there though.
"Does Bosco like it when you get mad with him?" he asks after a beat. He can't stop smiling but he knows I'm ready to react at any moment. He dodges my hand as it flies to his leg and I hear him laugh as he bustles through the doors into the lobby. I chase after him playfully and whack him over the head, not too hard but hard enough for him to realise not to push it anymore.
"Ow! Damn woman!" he cries rubbing the back of his skull. It's my turn to smile.
"I did warn you," I retort turning towards the desk. Bosco and Lieu are staring at us. My breath hitches a little as my eyes meet Bosco's, and I suddenly feel the need to tug down on my sweater and make myself in some way presentable.
The night doesn't show on him at all. His blue eyes are still big and bright, his skin still tanned, his hair (granted a little messy) still has its mahogany softness as it curls into his head. He's not dressed in his uniform yet, wearing a tight navy t-shirt and blue jeans. It's not fair – why does he have to look so damn good and I look like shit? I scold myself inwardly for my pettiness; it's not like it's a competition or anything.
He rests both his arms on the counter top leaning into papers that Lieu has lining the desk. Both men nod at me, as if to acknowledge my presence. I wave a little lamely and I feel Davis come up behind me, leaning down to my ear.
"Look Yokas, it's your lover," he teases, nipping my sides with his fingers. I yelp, shocked by the contact, and he skips off towards the locker room avoiding another thump.
I suddenly feel embarrassed and turn to the pair, forcing a smile. Lieu shakes his head disapprovingly and I mouth a 'sorry'. I know I'm going to get a talk later on the 'proper behaviour of a detective in the presence of the other officers'. Great – I'll look forward to that one. Lieu turns away, his head still shaking like one of those toy dogs you get for your car and I'm left looking at Bosco. He doesn't look too impressed and I frown as he too shakes his head, but in a more bitter fashion, and turns his back to me.
The hell if I'm gonna let this go. I stride up to him, stuffing my hands into the back pockets of my trousers. "What's wrong now?" I ask, skipping on the pleasantry of greeting him. He mutters something under his breath and I roll my eyes. "Bosco, what the hell is wrong?"
He throws down his pen and I see his jaw contract. Jesus, what the hell have I done this time?
"So what? You just flirt with Davis now?" he asks straight out. I feel myself cower back, a little offended by his question.
"What?" I reply quietly.
"You and Davis? A second ago? Come on Yokas, you're not that dumb a blonde," he snorts picking up his pen again. Now it's my turn to be pissed.
"Excuse me?" I say, incredulous, "I did not 'flirt' with Davis!" My tone was a little louder than I intended it to be and I close my eyes, realising more than a few people heard that. I hear him laugh again.
"Sure you didn't," he replies scribbling something down furiously.
"Look at me," I command, placing both hands on my hips. He refuses, still transcribing the document. I pry the pen from his fingers and I hear him sigh, exasperated. "Look at me," I repeat staring ahead of him. He turns slowly, meeting my gaze. "What's going on with you?"
"Nothing's goin' on with me Faith, I just think it's a bit stupid of you to flirt with another officer in the building, in front of the boss," he replies, licking his lips.
"Hey! I did not flirt with him, and even if I did, what business is it of yours?" I snap. He laughs again, and shakes his head.
"None I guess," he replies in a whisper. My brow furrows as I squint at him, seriously bewildered by his behaviour.
"No come on. If you have somethin' to say…"
"I just don't like other guys touching you ok?" he yells into my face. I step back, more than shocked by his honesty.
"Bos…what…" I stutter, more than confused. He shakes his head again, chuckling softly.
"I didn't mean it to sound like that," he says quickly as if to avoid any further embarrassment. "It came out all wrong…"
"Bosco. It's Ty. I mean he's hardly another 'guy'. He's a work colleague, just like me and you," I say softly, concentrating on the last five words of my sentence. He stares down at the floor, his body turned away from me.
"Yeah…just like me and you." He repeats my words with such conviction and bitterness that I feel my breath catch in the back of my throat, a dry lump forming. My mouth drops open as if I'm about to respond but no sound comes out. He refuses to even look my way, instead casting his despondent gaze to the wall across from the desk.
I didn't mean it to sound like that. Shit, I want to change what I've just said. I want to say it again so the words have the meaning I intended them to have. I wanted him to feel comforted by the fact I'd always be there for him, not feel as if I'm pushing him away. I want to fix this.
"Bosco." I manage to speak his name, out of sheer effort and determination. It's the only thing I can say. He turns to me slowly. His face is vacant of any expression. He's almost indifferent.
Ok that's something I never thought Bosco could be. Frustrated – yes. Hurt – yes. Totally fucking of his head insane with anger and infuriation – yes. Indifferent…no. No way in hell. He's always this well of emotions; he's never in between. Or so I thought.
"Bosco," I choke out again trying to grab his elbow as he attempts a swift exit. He shakes me off violently, sending me stumbling backwards.
"Leave it Yokas," he barks, striding on. I stare after him, fighting for breath as he heads for the locker rooms. No I will not fucking leave it! How dare he! I chase after him, hot on his heel.
"What the hell is your problem Bosco?" I scream, "Do you just love to fight with me?"
He stops abruptly causing me to bump into his back. I step back, regaining my composure as he turns to face me. He pushes his face into mine, his eyes boring holes into my head. He's so livid now. This is more like the Bosco I know. Unable to control his emotions, moody…
"Oh yes! I just love all this Faith!" he mocks angrily, "It's the highlight of my day, our screamin' matches at work!"
"Why don't you like other men touching me?" I ask, breathily.
He stops, taken back my question. I raise my eyebrows expectantly and he shakes his head laughing.
"Fuck you Faith," he mutters turning away from me.
"Why don't you?" I say again.
"I don't know…Jesus Faith leave it!"
"No, not that. Why don't you just fuck me?" I say barely in a whisper. He stares at me.
"What?" he asks, his tone incredulous. I gaze back at him, my breathing becoming laboured as he approaches. He stands over me, his warm breath blowing wisps of my hair across my face.
"Because, for some reason, that's not something I can just do without giving a second's thought," he replies, his face just inches from mine.
"Why not?" I gulp, "You do it all the time with other girls? Why not with me?"
His eyes fly down to my lips and for one frightening second I think he's about to kiss me. Right here in the locker rooms. Not that the conversation we're having in here isn't totally appropriate either. He looks back up, meeting my eyes.
"You're not like the other girls I've met Faith. You're like no one I've ever met before." He raises a hand brushing my hair from my eyes. "No one."
We stand for a second, breathing heavily, staring at each other. I'm so afraid that if I move, he'll pull away. Or worse. He'll move closer. But I don't even have to think about making the first move because he backs up, his hands trembling as he struggles into his jacket.
"Tell Lieu I ain't feelin' well. I'll see you when I see you Faith."
I watch as he leaves without even glancing back. Suddenly my legs feel like jelly and I collapse onto the floor fighting for breath, tears streaming down my face. What in the hell is this man doing to me?