When she woke up, just before dawn, she saw the the fire had been built up from its embers for her, but he was gone. She was disappointed. The big cop from New York intrigued her. With a heavy sigh, she prepared a quick breakfast, carefully put out the fire and left the clearing for wherever.
-------------------------------------------
He sat on a boulder on a high bluff overlooking a mountain valley, his pack on the ground behind him, leaning against the boulder. As ever, his mind was on her, how much he missed her and how deeply she had hurt him when she left. What the hell was he going to do now? He'd decided he had to return to New York. He wasn't about to give up a job he loved, the one thing he knew he was good at. Would she remain in Major Case? Could he handle watching her work on a daily basis as someone else's partner? And what about him? Remembering her maternity leave, he was convinced there wasn't another cop in the department he could work with. Bishop had tried, and he'd scared the hell out of her, not to mention how intimidated she was by him. He knew he did that to people but he wasn't about to change who he was to accomodate the rest of the world. He would have to prepare himself to rotate through another platoon of partners. Just the thought of it was enough to wrench his gut.
For the life of him he couldn't figure out what he had done to drive her away. He wasn't aware of anything about him that had changed, and she'd always seemed content before, even amused by some of the things he did. He never quite understood that, but he accepted it. And he often made her smile, which was worth whatever he'd happened to do at that time. When Deakins or Carver came down on him, she always stood by him. When something went down that troubled her, he was always there. They had meshed so well. What had gone wrong? Why had she left? It never even crossed his mind that he might have had nothing to do with it at all.
"Well, hello, detective."
He turned around. In the daylight, she looked different. Her hair was a soft honey-brown and her skin was tanned by time spent in the Texas sun. Her delicate features belied her strength of body and character. He watched her take off her pack and lean it against a tree. She had a natural grace that gave fluidity to every move she made. And when she came closer, he noticed her eyes. They were green with flecks of gold that sparkled when her face relaxed into a smile. "A rest stop on the trail to wherever?"
He turned his attention back to the valley. She saw the haunted look in his eyes and wondered what had happened to him to put it there. She came around to lean against the boulder beside him. "If I'm bothering you, I can find another rest stop," she said quietly.
He thought about that for a moment. "I don't own the mountains, counsellor. You can stop to rest anywhere you want."
"But I'm intruding."
He looked at her with a confused frown. "On what?"
"Your brooding."
Brooding? Was it that obvious? "I was just...thinking."
"Call it whatever you want. I just know what I see."
"Oh? And what do you think you see?"
She looked at him. "I see a tough cop, sitting on the side of a mountain, alone and lonely, looking for all the world like life is against him and he doesn't know what to do about it."
He stared at her, forgetting yet again that he wasn't the only profiler in the world and that you didn't have to be a cop to have the ability to read people. He didn't say a word, but got up and grabbed his pack.
"What are you running away from, detective?"
He stopped. What was he running away from? No matter where he went, his thoughts followed. "I just need to be alone, counsellor."
"Actually, I think that's the last thing you need."
He turned to face her. "What the hell do you know about me?"
She just looked at him calmly, not frightened at all by his anger. "Maybe nothing. Maybe more than you think."
He leaned over the boulder toward her, his face close to her shoulder. "What do you think you know?"
She turned her head, not drawing away or indicating any discomfort by his closeness. "I think you've been hurt and you don't know what to do about it."
He drew back and she knew she'd hit the nail on the head. She could see fresh pain in his eyes, caused by the reminder of what had brought him here. She said, "Now you tell me what you've figured out about me."
"What?"
"You're a detective. You spend your life figuring things out, reading people. Read me."
He set his pack down and rested his hip against the boulder. Crossing his arms over his chest, he looked at her. "I think you're a pain in the ass...in the courtroom."
She laughed, and he liked the sound of it. It was a warm, genuine laugh and it drew a soft smile from him, which she was glad to see, even if it didn't reach his eyes. "I have been told that by defense attorneys and judges alike, as well as co-workers, boyfriends, and a stuckup waitress in a diner in New Mexico. What else?"
"Your frankness gets you in trouble, often. And you have no fear."
"You're good."
"So they say. What else do you see?"
"I see a man who feels things more deeply than he should."
"What makes you say that?"
"No one should ever put that much pain in your eyes."
He recoiled as if she'd struck him. "You...you don't know her."
She'd thought as much. "I don't have to. You love her, and she hurt you. So now you're going to crawl into yourself and hide from the world. Which is a shame because you seem like a likeable guy."
"That's where you're wrong, counsellor. I'm not all that likeable."
"To yourself, maybe not."
He laughed bitterly. "Believe me. I've scared off more people than you have put in prison."
"I don't know about that. My record is pretty damn good."
He rubbed the back of his neck. "But I've been putting people off all my life."
"So how was she different?"
She noticed the change in his eyes, the softness and the sparkle. "She just was. She gave me a chance and she liked being with me. We...we were a great team."
"What changed that?"
The sparkle left and the pain returned. "I-I don't know."
What the hell? How had she done that? He'd done something he swore he'd never do again...he'd opened himself, even just a tiny bit, to another person. He studied her, head tilted and eyes bright. "You are good, counsellor. I hope I never have to face you in a courtroom."
"Why do you say that?"
"You know just what to ask and how to ask it."
"That's my job, detective. I daresay you do the same thing in the interrogation room."
He nodded. "Um, I...don't think I would mind, if you're still heading to wherever, if you wanted to walk along with me for awhile..."
She reached out and laid her hand on his. He didn't recoil or yank his hand away, nor did he shift his eyes from hers as she answered, "I think I would like that. I'd wager you're an interesting man."
"Some call it aggravating."
She smiled again, and the gold flecks sparkled. "Are you done here?"
"I think so."
He swung his pack easily onto his back and retrieved hers for her, holding it while she slipped her arms into the padded straps. "That's a heavy pack..." he began.
"...for such a little woman," she finished. "I'm stronger than I look, detective."
What was it about strong, feisty women he found so amazing? He leaned over and looked into her face. "So it seems."
She rewarded him with another smile. "Lead the way."
He chuckled, and this time there was the barest shimmer of his smile in his eyes. "After you, counsellor."
As they headed back toward the trail, she asked, "So, do you have a name in New York?"
"Bobby. What do they call you in Austin?"
"Pain in the ass. But you can call me Emily."
Another laugh as the trees closed in around them.
