AU: Okay, first off, did anyone watch the finale of Emily Owens M.D. with me last night? Was I the only one who felt like crying at the end? Seriously, how lame was that ending?! I literally couldn't speak for two straight minutes—I was just blown away. Luckily, I wrote an ending that I like a lot better—go check it out! If I could go back in time, I wouldn't watch the finale; I would just read my own ending to the twelfth episode and be happy with that. Did I mention how much the finale SUCKED?!

Sorry. There are some unresolved issues there.

Let's get back to Spike and Winnie, who we know did end up together (yay!), and I'm going to tell you how. :D

Thumbs up for my turtle, Jonah, making an appearance in this chapter! I know it's a lot shorter than my others ones have been, but I felt like this was a good place to end it for now. I had so much fun writing this chapter. :)

Chapter Four

I stay with Leah for three days before we finally sit down to talk about where I'm going to live. She tells me she's been looking for a roommate for awhile now—she's lonely, and the apartment's a bit more expensive than she can handle—and she'd already been thinking of asking me before my house was basically destroyed. I think about it for a few days and then realize that, logically, this is a great plan. Leah and I get along great, and I think we'll be okay as roommates. We work the same schedules, we're both pretty clean, and we already spend hours together each week when we're off. It's perfect. Plus, my half of the rent, water, etc. is exactly what I was paying for my duplex.

We consider killing ourselves by moving all my stuff out on our nights off, but I make an executive decision and decide to just take the team up on their offer to help me move on my next day off, which coincides with that of Team One on their rotating schedule. Ed and Sarge have to go to a football game at Clark and Dean's school, but we get Spike, Sam, and Jules to help us out.

Leah and I spend the night in Christina's living room. She's already moved out and technically the house has been deemed unsafe—there is, after all, the remnants of a destructive explosive charge upstairs—but we didn't want to have to wake up earlier than absolutely necessary on my moving day.

"It's kind of creepy here," Leah says softly as we sit in Christina's living room, all bundled up in our sleeping bags and listening to some weird techno music she's into.

I snort. "Great, this coming from the SRU officer who goes around saving lives all day. I feel so safe."

She rolls her eyes and lays back against her pillow, quiet for a long while. "You know, I really like Zach."

I consider this for a moment. She's been dating Zach for three weeks now, and I'm not sick yet of hearing her gush about him. It's good for Leah to actually be with someone who sticks—who gets her and her weird personality. Who understands that, at her job, she's tough and a risk-taker and brave, but the rest of the time she's really all girl—gentle and caring and beautiful. Zach gets that. I've only met him a couple times, but he seems like a really great guy.

"What are you thinking will happen?" I ask finally. I'm always so bad at these things—I have no idea what to say.

She rolls on her side to face me and props herself up on her elbow. "Honestly, we just click. I could maybe see us having a great relationship, a long-term one, you know?"

I nod. "From what I've seen of you two, you get along really well. Which is great."

She rolls onto her back again and smiles. "It is great," she murmurs.

We stay up talking till two. I'm beginning to wonder how this roommate system is going to affect my sleeping schedule.

Leah told everyone to get to the house at seven, but I'm questioning her sanity when my alarm goes off. We all just worked six days straight, and all I want to do is sleep, even if Christina's floor is about ten times as hard as mine. Honestly, it's like there are cinder blocks laying the foundation for this carpet.

I doze off after my alarm goes off, hoping Leah will get up, and it's not until I hear someone banging on the front door that I finally crack my eyes open. From my haze of sleep I hear Leah go to the door and let someone in, someone really loud.

"Good morning, sleepyhead."

I moan and roll over to try and cover my head with my pillow, which has mysteriously disappeared. "Don't hurt my turtle." Good Lord, Winnie, you are just the epitome of grace and charm. Did you really just say that out loud?

I peek my eyes open, hoping I'm still dreaming. Nope, Spike's standing right in front of me. He's grinning like a maniac and has this dazed look on his face, like he has no idea what he just got himself into.

"Your…turtle," he says slowly, obviously trying not to burst out laughing as I pull myself into a sitting position.

This isn't happening. I am not facing Spike Scarlatti with bedhead and talking about a turtle.

I run my hands awkwardly through my hair to try and flatten it a little. "Yeah…I have a turtle." I point a thumb in the direction of my side of the house. "Don't want you knocking his tank over while you're trying to get my dresser out the door."

Spike nods slowly, obviously unsure of how to respond. "O…kay." He holds out a Starbucks cup to me. "I got you some coffee. I mean, I know caffeine doesn't affect you, but…"

I grin up at him and try not to breathe out any morning breath. "Thanks. That was nice of you."

Jules and Sam arrive in about ten minutes. Sam blames their being late on Jules, saying she took the longest shower in world history, while Jules points out Sam's perfect hair and says he used a whole bottle of hair gel. I choose not to tease the Abercrombie couple—Leah and Spike have that covered.

Everything is already out of the house except for furniture, which Leah and I didn't have room for in her car. Sam borrowed Ed's truck, and Spike has his, so we're planning to just load everything into the beds and hope it all fits in one go. I'm thankful I haven't had a chance to build my bookshelf yet—it's much easier to move with it still in the box.

After I've pulled myself together and inhaled a granola bar, I dash over to my house to help everyone else who's already hard at work. I smile guilty at Sam and Jules, who are working to get my kitchen table out the door.

My first stop is my dining room, where my turtle's tank is. I fill up a plastic bowl with water and scoop him out of the tank. "Jonah!" I coo in the baby voice I always talk to him in, "we're moving today!"

"Creepy baby voice to a turtle."

I whirl around to see Spike leaning on the doorjamb and grinning at me. "Only you, Win. I just gotta say, you're the only one I could ever see doing that." He clutches at his head dramatically and moans, "Scarred for life."

I shrug nonchalantly as I peer into the bowl, where Jonah's swimming around rather frantically. "Poor baby, don't worry." I glance up at Spike with an evil gleam in my eye. "Spike will drain your tank and get it all set up at the new house."

He rolls his eyes and mumbles, "Your hero."

Everything's moved in by three. We had to make two trips, but overall everything went smoothly. Jules stays awhile after the guys leave to help me unpack my clothes and other personal things before she gets a text from Sam and dashes out, saying it's "urgent". Yeah, right. Leah and I spend our first roomie night watching The Patriot and crying.

I am dead the next day, like, honestly dead. I can barely crawl out of bed, much less take a shower before work, so my hair's nice and greasy for the day. Leah is disgustingly put together—showered, all made up—she even watered her plants before we left. Usually I'm sort of a morning person but, dear Lord, Leah is the freaking morning queen.

"Someone looks a bit tired," Spike smirks as he comes strolling in, cup of coffee and car keys in hand. He leans on my desk and grins at me. "Poor baby."

I squish my fists against my eyes and moan. "Oh, why won't caffeine affect me?! I think I'm dying." I glare at him, all bright eyed and clean shaven and happy. "I barely even moved anything—how are you so rested? I think I lifted a couple boxes the entire day, and I could barely get out of bed."

He shrugs. "I'll crash later in the day. I do pretty well in the mornings." He grins as Sam comes shuffling by my desk on his way to the locker room. "Sam-o! Bud!"

Sam just glares at him and continues on. "I hate morning people."

"That makes two of us!" I call after him.

The team runs a couple of training routines on the obstacle course before coming in to take care of last minute stuff before they go on patrol. Ed and Sarge are having a brief meeting with Commander Holleran, and the rest of the team is supposed to be taking care of paperwork from last week. Leah and I share a mutual look when Sam and Jules both suddenly remember they forgot something in their cars and have to run out to get it; "don't worry, we'll be back in a minute".

Spike comes over to my desk in all his tactical gear, and I tell myself that it's just my foggy, exhausted brain that has me thinking he looks hot today. Seriously, the muscles and the grin and that dimple…Spike, you're killing me here.

My sister once asked me how I handled myself around all that Kevlar and muscle all day, to which I said, Thanks, Kaylee, you know it hadn't really bothered me before, but now that's all I'm going to be thinking about. Especially with Spike. Abercrombie Sam is way too bleach blond for me.

Spike and I talk for awhile about how I tried to make fresh salsa last night for the movie, and how I wasn't thinking and just threw the jalapeno away after I chopped it up. Leah pretended to like my watery tomato paste, but I couldn't bring myself to eat it. Spike says he could have helped out with the jalapeno, and I pretend to rail against him over my hazing. He just laughs and goes to talk with Leah.

They look like they're having a really deep conversation, and I make a face at Leah when she looks at me and snickers. She just rolls her eyes and turns back to Spike, who's looking kind of stressed out. I'm about to yell at them and ask what they're talking about when something pops up on my screen.

Spike asked me out last night.

I'm sorry, what? Who gave him the right to come along with his grin and his eyes and just blow everything I thought I knew right out of the water? Is the sky still blue? Is the earth's surface still composed primarily of water?

Okay, maybe not that bad.

It had been a great day. The bad guys were caught, the guy got beat up for the girl, and then the guy actually got the girl. I was on a little lovesick high when suddenly Spike comes up, looking all nervous and hopeful, and asks if he can take me out to dinner.

In the space of two seconds, about a million thoughts went through my brain.

First, of course. Of course I will go out with you. How could I say no to that face? Plus, Leah's watching us, which is kind of awkward, and I know she's going to grill me later.

Second, Winnie, you know this. You know what happens when these things mix. Families are destroyed. Divorce, orphans, debt. It might not always be that bad, but there's the potential. And you can't go through that again.

And third, it's not just the consequences, but I do have a rule. I do need balance. The two of us combined work more than a hundred hours a week—there's barely time to go to team picnics or out to drinks, much less have a functioning relationship.

I'm a wreck, my family is a wreck—Spike just doesn't really know what he's trying to get himself into. I need someone who's not always seeing all the bad things in people's lives, someone who actually sees the happiness and doesn't cry after a bad day at work.

I've never even been in a serious relationship with someone. Starting one with Spike—there's so much more at stake than with any other guy—plus working together—even more at stake—is just too much right now. Too much ever.

So I told him no. I used my rule as a way to get out of it. Sure, that was a pretty big factor in saying no, but it was also to just blame everything on the rule.

But his face after that. Oh Lord, his face. He looked so disappointed. Why would Spike look so disappointed just because I turned him down? I mean, he could have any girl he wants. Except me, I guess.

I feel so guilty for the rest of the day. Leah won't shut up on our drive home—why did I turn Spike down, he's a great guy, I need to just move on, blah, blah, blah. I go shut myself in my room as soon as we get home. Yay. Second day as roommates, and we're already fighting.

It's just…I expected Spike to ask Leah out before he asked me. Which means I had no idea this would happen. Ever.

Oh my God. How am I going to go back to work? How are we ever going to work together again?

The team's going to know. They just know these things. They'll see Spike's acting differently, and they'll have it out of him in two minutes. Ed will clap him on the shoulder with his, "Hey, Bud, what's wrong?" while Greg sits quietly and just waits. Jules will murmur and actually act like a girl; Sam will be all, "Hey, Spike, what's wrong?" with his furrowed brow and piercing gaze. And Spike will tell them everything. He just cracks like that.

I won't even have a chance—it'll just be written all over my face. I, Winnie Camden, was asked out on a date by Spike Scarlatti at six forty-seven pm yesterday. And I looked into those incredible eyes, that great smile…and I turned him down. Not that I'll say anything like that—never—but they'll know. Oh, how they'll know.

I call in sick. And then Leah drags me out of bed, practically dresses me, and drags me out the door moaning and saying how horrible this day is going to be.

"Winnie!" Steve says with surprise when I stagger in. "I thought—"

"She's fine," Leah interrupts, shoving me towards my desk. "Steve, go home to your wife. Winnie, suck it up."

I'm hyperventilating. Leah didn't even let me go to the locker room to change, so now I have to shove my backpack under the desk and lie to Sarge about why I'm wearing a frilly pink blouse. Oh, the move was so hard, you know, I haven't had a chance to do any laundry. I promise I'll be back in uniform tomorrow.

He knows something's up.

Ed's next, with his fatherly grin, asking me how I'm doing.

Oh, I'm great. Sure, Spike's going to walk in any minute and I just might quit and go get a job serving drinks at the Goose—which would be ironic, since I don't drink—but yeah, Ed, I'm fine.

"Just a little tired," I say.

"Oh, yeah?" Ed asks, his wretched concern making him come over and lean on my desk. "What's keeping you up at night?"

If it was anyone but him, I'd think that was a creepy question, but it's Ed and he'd never do that to me. "Oh, you know, just the move." I don't meet his eyes and run my hand awkwardly through my hair. Wow, Winnie, if that didn't clue him into something being wrong, I don't know what would.

"Win," Ed asks seriously, giving me that look, "what's wrong?"

"What's wrong with Winnie?" Jules asks, suddenly coming up with Sam. They've just arrived. Perfect timing, guys.

"I'm fine," I bite out, glancing frantically at the door. Please, God, let there be a traffic jam, a car crash, a slow old lady walking across the street, anything to keep him from getting here right now. "You all can just go change and get ready for the day because I am doing great."

My voice trembles there at the end. They all lean in closer—Jules actually comes around and gives me a hug. It's all over my face, I know it, they can see everything.

"Hey, guys."

Please, let the ground open up right now, swallow me, burn me alive, anything. This is not my life.

"Hey, Spike," Sam greets casually.

He takes in the scene in a moment and gives me a gentle smile. "Hey, guys, do you think I could talk to Winnie for just a minute?"

Jules gives him a look like she has no idea what's going on. She shrugs. "Yeah, okay, I'm just going to go get changed. We're meeting in the briefing room in ten."

"Okay," Spike agrees, waiting until they all head off to the locker rooms before he turns to me.

Don't ask me again. Please don't ask me again. I'll say no, because my rule is important to me, and I'm going to hold to it, but I don't want to hurt you again. Please, Spike.

"Win, it's okay," he says softly, making sure no one can hear him even though there's no one nearby.

I almost go for the whole, What's okay? Oh, you mean that? I'm fine.

Nah, it's just Spike. I let my relief spill out of my eyes.

"I'm so sorry," I whisper, shaking my head and staring at my desk, where I'm clenching my hands together till it hurts. "I didn't want to hurt you…"

"Win," Spike says again, waiting for me to look at him before he continues, "it's okay." He shrugs. "I asked you out. You said no. And I respect that. Nothing needs to change between us."

Pathetic as it is, I might actually tear up at his words. The man is just so kind.

"Thank you," I whisper, just as Sarge walks up from the locker room.

"Hey, Spike, Winnie." He takes in the scene before him with a critical eye. "Everything okay?"

"All good, Boss," Spike responds with an easy grin. He backs away from me slowly and gives me a wink. "I'll see you later, Win."

Maybe everything will actually be okay.