A/N I would sincerely apologize to all of you who have been following this story for making you wait over a month for this chapter. I could show you the six different versions I went through or the dent in my basement wall where I was banging my forehead, but instead I will simply offer this chapter as the best apology I can make. I looked at the direction I had planned for the story and realized it was simply re-writing some of the better first season episodes, and not terribly original re-writes at that. So I am going to try a new direction (but not radically so) and attempt to work on a story line or two that didn't appear on the TV show. I can only hope that this will not turn out to be a disaster. If it is, I fully expect you, gentle readers, to let me know about it, because that is the only way I'll ever improve at this. So thank you for taking the time from your lives to read my works. Now that I have blown off all of my steam, let's find out what happens...

POE1911

THE DENVER EDITON – CHAPTER 6

Ruthie gave herself a luxurious stretch before turning her alarm off. Yesterday had been nearly perfect. After the night she had spent at the hospital with Doug, he had taken the next day off and they had just been together for the whole day. The only thing that had marred it, in Ruthie's opinion was that she knew that both she and Doug had wanted to use the L word (love) but both were a bit skittish when it came to that. Even more importantly Ruthie didn't want him to say it until he knew everything about her life and that definitely included the paper. Quark's bark alerted her to its arrival, so she got out of bed and opened her front door. Quark darted in, but Ruthie just stood there looking at the paper in disbelief. 'Student Kills Six and then Himself' was the headline.

Ruthie just shook her head and closed her eyes, hoping it was fatigue that had made her see what she had just seen. But when she opened her eyes the headline was still there. Reluctantly she picked up the paper and tried to figure out how she was gonna stop this one.

After ten minutes of serious thought, she could only come up with two solutions, one was go there herself, and the other was call Armstrong. Reluctantly she admitted that this was the kind of thing that should be left to the professionals and picked up the phone and dialed.

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"Faraday"

"Lieutenant Armstrong please"

"Sure, who can I say is calling?"

"This is Ruth Camden"

And that name changed everything as far as Billy was concerned. This was the chick that had freaked out the guy that Billy considered to be unflappable. Billy had checked out the name Gary Hobson, and what he had found had only made him more confused. The guy was just a bar owner, but somehow he ended up in the hospital more than a stuntman, and had a police file the size of a phone-book. Never convicted of anything, but investigated dozens of times. What wasn't in there was the reason that Armstrong was freaked by the guy, there were a few incidents mentioned in Hobson's file, but nothing that would cause that level of reaction. Time to try and figure some things out.

"And this pertains to. . . ."

"An issue of mutual interest" the girl answered.

"Does this concern a certain Gary Hobson?"

"In no way shape manner or form" the girl snapped back "now are you gonna put me through or do I need to complain to IAD about your unprofessional conduct."

Billy looked a bit nervously, the girl hadn't hesitated to go right for the 'nuclear option'; that told him that she was both smart and ruthless. He sighed, best to put her through.

"Hang on a second" he put Ruthie on hold and hollered over his shoulder "LT, line one for ya".

He hung up the phone and surreptitiously watched his lieutenant's face; wondering what he'd see there.

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"Armstrong"

"It's Camden"

"I'm gonna hate hearing this, aren't I"?

"Most likely, I know that I hate telling you" the girl replied "in about two hours a student named Michael Collins is gonna go nuts and re-enact Columbine down at Central High."

"How many" Armstrong asked, not having to ask if this was real or how she knew.

"Seven counting himself and fifteen wounded" Ruthie replied, relieved beyond measure that Armstrong had just accepted what she had said.

"Thanks" Armstrong replied "we're on it"; his hand was shaking as he hung up the phone. He took a couple of deep breaths to calm himself and then went to his door "Faraday, you grab six uniforms and come with me to Central High School."

"What's up boss" Billy asked.

"A shooting" Armstrong answered, brief and to the point.

Billy Faraday did as he was told, but all the time he was wondering how some artist chick knew about a school shooting. He knew that now wasn't the time to ask, but it was something he would dang sure remember.

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Ruthie hung up the phone with a relieved sigh, only to start in horror at what was there now. Apparently now instead of a bunch of kids, two cops would die. Both from random fire as the attempt to nab the kid was botched. Ruthie knew that she couldn't call Armstrong again, so that left only one option, going down there herself. She quickly got dressed and headed down to her studio. If she was going there, she was darn sure wearing the vest. She dashed right in when she got to her studio, immediately alerting Jennifer that something was up.

"What's going on Ruthie" the older woman asked, once she had chased her partner down.

"A school shooting" the brunette said, wriggling into her Kevlar vest.

"Did calling the police ever occur to you" Nif said with a bit of exasperation.

"I've already done that" Ruthie said with a glare "the headline changed from a bunch of kids getting shot, to two cops dying".

"So now you've got to go and make it two cops and one artist" Nif said with a bit of anger.

Ruthie knew that the anger came from worry, but it didn't help at the moment "I'm trying to make sure that no-one dies" she said with a bit of a snap "that is what I do after all".

Jennifer stopped her reply and took a breath "I know kid, I'm just worried about you is all."

"That's good" Ruthie said "cause I'm scared spitless".

"But you're going anyway" it was a statement, not a question.

"I couldn't live with myself" the younger girl replied, sagging in her seat.

"I know Ruth, it's who you are. Just remember that I'm selfish, and want my partner to hang around for a bit longer."

"Thanks Nif" Ruthie replied with a smile "I'll do my best." With that she hugged her friend and headed out.

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Michael Collins was sweating hard; somehow someone had known what he was planning. That fact had him more upset than the possibility of his getting killed. I suppose it would be fair to say that Michael wasn't sane by most standards. He had been having vivid fantasies about being a hired killer; and decided that the best way to practice for a career in that was to off all of his classmates that Michael categorized as worthless. He was sure that he wouldn't miss them and couldn't conceive of anyone else who would. He would just be killing off a bunch of conceited girls and brain dead Neanderthal guys; where was the bad in that. But now everything was a bust because someone had known what was coming.

It had been sheer luck that he had noticed the police cars pulling up to the front of the school. He usually didn't sit where he could see out the windows, but today he had, totally by chance. As soon as he had seen them come tearing up to the school, he had realized that they somehow knew what his plans were. Acting as coolly as possible, he had asked to go to the bathroom and instead had gone to his locker and gotten his gun. It was a Nickel plated 357 Magnum that he had bought on line. He calmed a lot when his hand wrapped around the grip of the pistol, his head becoming a bit clearer. The police might want to take him away, Michael thought, but he wasn't sure that he wanted to be taken, at least not alive. Quietly now, he slipped down the hall and into the Band room, which wasn't being used this period, and settled down to wait.

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Billy Faraday walked down to the classroom where the kid was supposed to be. Despite his years on the force, he was scared as heck. Regular criminals he could deal with without a second thought, but someone crazy, especially a crazy teenager was so unpredictable that there wasn't any set way for dealing. You had to go with your instincts, and that was something that Billy was just learning to do. He knocked on the classroom door and looked in. The teacher gave him a rather exasperated look and came over and opened the door.

"Can I help you?"

"Yes ma'am" he said while surreptitiously flashing his badge "I need to speak to Michael Collins please."

The teacher looked confused for a moment "he's not here; he left to go to the restroom about five minutes ago."

'Just great' Billy thought "do you know where his locker is?"

"Just a moment" the teacher said and walked back into the room. Billy could hear her asking the class if any of them knew where Michael's locker was. He could hear a few murmured answers and soon the teacher was back. "Locker 417, down the hall and across from the Band room."

"Thank you" Billy said "now lock the door and don't open it for anyone that doesn't have a badge, alright."

"Do you think Michael would do something . . . . . drastic?"

"I hope not, but it's not something I'd gamble on" the detective replied "so close and lock the door after I leave; please."

The teacher nodded, and Billy heard the bolt slide into place as he walked down the hall drawing his pistol.

He was walking down the hall, checking the numbers on the lockers, if he had been paying better attention, he would have seen a pair of eyes tracking him from the shadows. 'There it is' he thought, a locker standing open with papers and books falling out and a jacket visible. Billy looked around the hallway, looking for where the kid might be. His head snapped around when he heard the sound of running feet. He aimed his gun along his sight line just in time to see a familiar figure come tearing down the hall. It was the chick from the bank job, the one they had let go. Also the one that tipped Armstrong off about this little situation he remembered. What the heck was she doing here? As he checked the girl running towards him, to see if she was armed, he caught motion out of the corner of his eye. Then everything exploded.

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Ruthie saw the cop with his gun towards her, but she also saw the door opposite the sergeant open up and a teenage boy step out. Then she saw the gun. The kids focus was entirely on the cop, he didn't even seem to realize that she was there. She saw the gun coming up and leapt high, twisting her body so the vest was between her and the kid, and she was between the kid and the cops head. She heard the gun go off and felt the impact in her chest. The force of the shot knocked her into the cop in mid-flight, and they crashed to the ground together.

The kid just stood there gaping at the two of them, as though he couldn't understand what had just happened. Then he came to his senses and started to raise his pistol again when Ruthie heard a pistol near to her head bark twice. Billy put both he shots into the kid's chest. The pistol dropped from his lifeless hands and clattered on the tiles of the hallway, his slumping body close behind. Billy Faraday darted over to see if the kid had somehow survived, but he hadn't, the cop then turned his attentions back to the girl who had just saved his life. She was laying on the ground, curled up and clutching her chest. She seemed to be having some difficulty breathing. Just then his radio crackled and he heard Armstrong's voice.

"Was that gunfire? Report Faraday."

He thought for a second and then said "subject is down, there is a civilian injured, we'll need an ambulance and the coroner."

"On my way" was Armstrong's answer. Billy didn't even hear this as he went over to Ruthie and tried to help the girl out. "What's hurt" he asked.

"Ribs" the girl gasped out "lower right, damn I hate guns."

"Not real fond of them myself" Billy replied. "Listen, this curled up stuff is making it harder for you to breathe, let's get you flattened out. Can you stretch your hands above your head?"

Ruthie gave a small nod and with the sergeant's help, she got her body unclenched and straightened out. Once she got her hands above her head, her breathing eased even more. As her breathing eased, she became calmer and was finally able to think again. It was then that she noticed that the young cop was shaking.

"Are you OK" she asked while lying as still as possible.

"No" he replied "I don't think so. I just killed a kid and was nearly killed myself, so right now I'm pretty far away from OK. Look at me; I'm shaking like a leaf."

"You should have seen Brigatti after something like this" Ruthie said.

"Toni Brigatti, Armstrong talks about her every now and again, he said she's the toughest cop he ever knew."

"That's probably right, but she still gets the shakes, every time."

"How do you know her?"

She married my boss back in Chicago."

Billy was surprised at what was going on, the girl was the one who had been shot, but she was the one offering comfort to him. That was an unusual amount of compassion, not to mention the girl was pretty hot, at least in his opinion. He was jolted out of his thoughts when Armstrong and the paramedics arrived.

"You want me to ride in with you" Billy asked the girl.

"Nah" she replied "I'll be OK; thanks for asking"

"Give me a call sometime, cause I owe you for this, saving my life and all."

"Will do" Ruthie said with a smile.

Ruthie was doing much better by then and her breathing was nearly normal, but the medics wanted to take her in and have her x-rayed just to make sure. So they loaded her on a gurney and were rolling her out to the ambulance when Armstrong asked her "why were you here"?

She looked at the detective for a second then said "Billy and another cop were going to die, I couldn't allow that".

Armstrong just looked at the girl for a second and then nodded to the EMT's and they loaded her into the ambulance. "You realize I'm gonna have to come up with something for my report, don't you" the Lieutenant said with a pained smile.

"I guess I'll have to trust your creativity Armstrong" the girl said with a smirk

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Doug was having a pretty good day when the call came in that there was a gunshot victim on the way in. At first he put the ER on alert and was prepping for the worst, but soon he was able to see the patient's vitals and calmed down a lot. The vitals were darn near to normal, so either it was a graze or some other slight wound, or it was a mistake. So Doug was calm right up until the gurney was rolled through the door, and he saw who was on it.

As soon as he spotted Ruthie, Doug was there asking a million questions. They were coming so fast that no one had a chance of answering, and he didn't stop until he heard Ruthie laughing.

"Are you gonna breathe there Doug" the girl asked.

Doug leaned back and grinned and took an exaggerated breath, then looking the girl right in the eyes asked "are you OK".

Ruthie held his intense gaze for a moment then said "yeah, I was shot in the lower right chest, but I was wearing a Kevlar vest, so no penetration. The guys" she waved at the EMT's "thought the ribs might be broken and suggested an x-ray, so here we are."

Calming down, Doug just said "take her to treatment 3 for the moment, and leave the charts, please."

The technicians just nodded and headed off to the treatment room. Meanwhile Doug just stood and took another calming breath while staring at his shaking hand. He was surprised at the intensity of his reaction, but it only served to crystallize one thought in his head; that he was in love with the young artist. Beyond any doubt, he loved her, and he was gonna tell her that. Slowly he followed the path the technician's had taken and he went to see the girl he had just vowed to marry some day, hoping that she truly was alright.

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"So what's the good word doc" Ruthie asked.

"Well, your ribs aren't broken, so that's good. Just keep em wrapped for a few days and you should be OK."

"Thanks Doug, I really appreciate this."

Doogie shot a smirk at her and adopted a broad Texas accent "'twernt nothin little lady."

"Yes it was most definitely something" she said with a laugh.

"So you want to tell me how this all happened?"

"Well, the short version is I found out that this kid was wanting to re-enact Columbine. I told the police and then went with them to bring him in."

"Why"

"I felt responsible, I suppose; maybe I was hoping to talk him down, honestly I'm not sure why, I just had to be there. Anyway, I wore a Kevlar vest and was just walking around looking for him when I saw he was about to shoot someone, so I put myself in the way. You know the rest."

"I can't believe you'd do something like that so casually, doesn't your life mean anything to you?"

"Of course it does, but I knew that I was protected, and that the cop wasn't, so I did what I thought was right. I don't have a death wish or anything, but if I see something happening that I can prevent, I do it. It's just the way I am."

Doug sagged a bit on the bed "I know, and I do understand, but I worry about you."

"Thanks, that means a lot to me."

He turned and smiled at her and leaned in close "I wouldn't want anything to happen to the woman that I l……." He couldn't continue because her hand was covering his mouth lightly.

"Don't say that, not yet" she asked.

"Why not?"

"There are some things you can't come back from, and telling someone that you love them is one of those things, at least in my book. But before you say that, there are some things about me that you need to know. I don't want you to say something and then regret it after you find things out."

"I can't see how it could be that bad."

"It's not necessarily bad, but it is a lot to deal with. I don't have enough time to tell you about it now, cause I've got a deadline to deal with, but if you could come to the gallery tonight after play practice?"

"Sure" he said, a bit disappointed and nervous "unless something comes up and I'm needed here."

"Fine" she said, sliding out of bed and kissing him tenderly "I'll see you then."

He got up, still obviously confused but masking it well. "I'll go get your paperwork processed so we can get you out of here. Then I'll see you later, do you want a ride to practice?"

"That would be great" she said "thank you."

He walked out of the room, Ruthie following his progress with anxious eyes. She hoped he would be able to handle what she was about to tell him.

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Steve Issacs smiled when he saw who had just walked into the theater. Steve had been directing regional theater for many years and loved it. He had always enjoyed watching people who didn't think they could act discovering the joys of the theater. True, some of the times had been abysmal, but others had been spectacular. Steve was thinking that this production of 'Much Ado about Nothing' would be close to spectacular, and the two new arrivals were a big part of that. The rest of the cast called them 'the lovebirds' or at least they called them that when the two weren't around. It was clear, at least to most people, that they were in love; even if they wouldn't admit it. It was this repressed emotion that made the early scenes where the two characters clash so memorable, and it also made the ending scenes where they confess their love so much more believable.

When Ruth had first walked in and said that she had done a bit of acting before, and had worked sets and such, Steve had just nodded and said nothing; most amateurs had no idea how to design sets or props. He had finally allowed her to submit a couple of ideas, and he was forever glad that he had. When he had seen the designs he was amazed at the forethought and details that had been included in the renderings. Upon seeing the designs he had immediately allowed her to design the sets and backgrounds. Later that night he had gone home and done a bit of research; and found that one of the countries foremost artists was actually designing his sets. He could not understand why she had chosen to do this, but he was forever grateful that she had.

In addition to her skill with design, the girls acting chops were also first rate. Not Hollywood or Broadway good, but better than average for somewhere like Denver. And the guy was almost as good. That was hard to believe considering the first time he had been there, he was awful; but then the girl had talked to him for a minute or two, and suddenly the kid is going on like Olivier. Steve couldn't think of a better trick since 'Lazarus come forth'.

"Now that all the principles are here, let's do the party scene" he said. The company assumed their marks, and the scene unfolded.

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"I can't believe that there's only two weeks before we put it on for real."

"I don't know about you, but I need every minute of practice I can get."

"Please, you're the star of the show."

"You honestly think that?"

"Yes I do; and I'd think that even if I didn't care so much about you."

"I care a lot about you too Doug, that's why I need to tell you everything."

"Well, we're at the gallery, fire away."

"Did you ever wonder how I show up in the improbable situations that I do?"

Doug thought for a moment "sometimes things seem a bit far fetched, but you seem to be able to explain everything."

Ruthie hung her head "the problem is that most of those explanations are lies."

"What, why would you lie about things like that?"

"Because the truth is even less believable."

"OK, now that you officially have my attention, what could be so unbelievable that you would lie to people that care about you?"

Ruthie heaved a sigh and turned away "every morning I get the paper."

"So do most people."

"But I get a different paper than anyone else."

"Different, how?"

"Because I get the paper a day early."

"A day early, what the heck does that mean?"

"It means that at six thirty every morning, tomorrow's newspaper lands on my doorstep. I then have twenty four hours to put things right."

"What do you mean 'put things right'?"

"If there's a fire, I stop it from happening, if there's a bank robbery, I stop it…."

"And if someone is going to get shot, you prevent it" Doug said with realization growing in his eyes. That's how you knew about the little girl, and that we would be swamped with accident victims."

"Yeah" Ruthie answered "I read about it, then I fixed it."

"Why" Doug asked, surprised at himself for actually believing that Ruth was telling the truth. He realized that if someone was going to play at knowing the future, they would have come up with a much better story than a 'magic paper'. Maybe claimed to be psychic with a grandmother that was a gypsy or something like that, because anything else would be more plausible. But it was this very implausibility that convinced him that she was telling the truth, that and the fact that he trusted her.

"Because I get the thing for a reason, if I ignored it and someone got hurt, I'd never be able to forgive myself."

"So all this is a choice, couldn't you walk away?"

"You could stop officially being a doctor, but could you not help if someone needed a doctor. No" Ruthie said, answering her own question "you'd have to help, it's who you are. I'm the same way, I may choose to do this, but choosing not to would scar me permanently."

Doug paced back and forth, running his hands through his hair, finally he turned to face the girl "I'm gonna need some time to deal with this, you understand that, right?"

"Yeah" Ruthie sighed "I understand".

And without further comment, Doug turned and left the gallery. Ruthie watched him go, hoping he'd stop and turn around and hold her and tell her that everything was fine; but he didn't and it wasn't.