Disclaimer: The characters are not mine, I just like to play with them.
A/N: There is no proper chronology- if I want to refer to something in an episode that occurred after 'Fantasy Date', well…chalk it up to artistic licence!
Out of Pride's Ashes- Part 2
Her hand was shaking.
"Chief!"
She could not steady her grip on the gun. Brenda fought to keep her weapon aimed squarely at her attacker but for some reason, it kept wavering.
"Chief, are you all-?" the black man hesitated, breaking off. The answer was painfully evident.
"What do you think it looks like?" Lieutenant Provenza sarcastically enquired of the younger man.
The man who assaulted her remained sprawled inelegantly on the floor, fearing to move from the position to where she had kicked him. His black ski mask lay crumpled beside him, revealing an ordinary, rather shell-shocked face. Blood still trickled down from his nose. At the arrival of the other police officers on the scene, he stirred, relieved at the presence of people apart from the blonde woman resolutely pointing a gun in his face.
"I don't know what the hell you cops are playing at, but this is against-" he began to protest.
"Shut up."
The words were forced out through gritted teeth as Brenda finally steadied her gun, the arrival of her officers providing the necessary impetus to pull herself together. Convinced that she was near enough to losing control that his life was in jeopardy, the man held his tongue but looked at the officers in mute appeal.
Provenza and Sergeant Gabriel exchanged a glance.
"Why don't you take care of our intruder?" Gabriel suggested mildly.
"How come I have to do the dirty work?" said Provenza, his face setting along familiar surly lines.
Gabriel shrugged. "Well, if you want to deal with the Chief…"
Assessing their department head's condition, the older man shook his head, opting to pull out his cuffs. "She doesn't look too good. Of course, neither does this guy," Provenza smirked as he motioned the man to his feet. "Hey, I like your nose that way- gives your face character."
Tuning out as the lieutenant issued the standard caution, Gabriel turned his attention back towards his battered boss. Her eyes were coldly focused on the man now in cuffs, boring into his back as Provenza hauled him out of the room, although once gone, her gaze returned to the gun that now lay limply in her hands as though unsure what to do with it.
"Here, why don't you let me take that?" he said softly, not wanting to sound threatening or alarm her in any way.
Her body felt leaden, as though she would have to muster up every last remnant of strength in her body in order to stand or move or even twitch a muscle. Gabriel's voice seemed to be coming from such a long distance away, she could not distinguish the words, they simply blurred into nonsensical vibrations in the background that barely registered with her. The last spate of energy that had enabled her to function normally until the two men arrived drained out of her veins, leaving her weak, exhausted and worn out.
Looking at her, Gabriel felt a deep throbbing anger within him for the bastard that had done this. For a woman so scattered as the Chief, it was a miracle how well put together she managed to present herself on a day-to-day basis. And who could forget her makeover in the line of duty, subjecting herself to hair styling, makeup and costume changes while pursuing the case of murdered Heather Kingsley? His eyes had certainly contemplated dropping out once he got a look of her in that slinky black gown she had poured herself into. Yet his respect for her remained a constant, no matter how outrageously she bluffed or gambled, and outlandishly conjectured- whatever façade she employed to draw others to misjudge her or mistake she had seemingly made in evaluating the case, he remained steadfast in his conviction that she would come through in the end. She had not yet failed to do so.
To see the Chief now- a nasty gash on her forehead that trickled blood, dress torn indecently low down the front, bruises forming on her body…if he had been given time to properly judge her condition before Provenza had led the perp out of there, Gabriel might have been tempted to take the man into custody himself, if only to teach him a lesson. He was not a violent man at heart, but one could make exceptions for these sorts of cases.
Unsure how exactly to deal with her, Gabriel reasoned that it could only help to remove the gun from her grasp in case she accidentally triggered it somehow, and to then take her to the hospital, where she could have her injuries treated. Carefully scooping the gun from her compliant hold, he tucked it away before kneeling in front of the woman to meet her lowered gaze.
"Chief?" he said encouragingly. "Come on, we've got to get you out of here. You need to have those injuries seen to, and that gash certainly needs to be bandaged."
As their eyes connected, he feared for a moment that she was too far gone in shock to respond, eyes detached and lifeless, blank as though she did not recognize him. Then a tremor ran through her body and she finally seemed to come back to herself.
"No, thank you, I'm fine," Brenda said, demurring his suggestion as she ran a hand through her hair, trying in vain to restore order to her appearance.
A brief skim over her cut, scraping over dried blood, and down to her neck to linger over the shocking bruises there caused her lips to tighten as the pain registered at last, no longer held at bay by the previous combination of shock and adrenaline. Feeling flooded back into her body, reigniting old and new complaints, but she brushed these aside, propriety troubling her now as fingers worried at the frayed edges of her dress's ripped neckline. Giving it up as a lost cause, she blinked rapidly as her eyes burned, and contented herself with tugging the wrap tightly around her body again.
"I really think that you ought to-" Gabriel tried, but was cut off.
"Thank you for your concern, Sergeant," her voice carried a distinct edge, "but it is not necessary. I'll be fine. Now…the suspect, has he- that man's been taken into custody?"
"Yes, ma'am," said Gabriel, resigned to what was coming next.
"Then we'd better get back for the interrogation, hadn't we?"
Gabriel tried to reason with her. "You're going to question him- now, ma'am?" The woman had just been attacked, she refused to receive treatment and she was gung-ho to interrogate the suspect?
"No, no, Sergeant," she said sweetly, drawing on the Southern belle persona as a seal for her exposed wounds. "You misunderstand me- I'm not going to conduct the interview, you are." A taut smile passed over her lips at his stunned expression.
"Oh…"