AN: Don't you just hate it when you have to abandon your writing for so long, just because life interferes? Yeah, me too. And I'm so sorry. I hope this installment makes up for the long wait.
Disclaimer: Sadly, life's interference did not include the ownership of NCIS: NOLA or its characters.
Oh well, here we go…
Three weeks later:
She's avoiding you. Ever since your indeed silent and quite uncomfortable drive back from her cousin's place, she's been actively sabotaging every opportunity you've been trying to take to talk to her or even be alone with her. Since her broken wrist has her confined to desk duty, she's not there on crime scenes, but she'll make her escape into another room as soon as she can, when you make it into the office. Her excuses all seem legit enough to King, but you know better.
She also keeps declining most invitations to hang out after work, either with you or the entire group. Only when King insists, does she reluctantly stay, but even then she makes sure she's never alone with you, always talking to someone else, always prompted to leave when she sees you arrive.
Against better judgement, you keep trying. Like yesterday, when you gently set a cup of her favorite coffee with a fruit filled pastry you know she loves, on her desk. She took it with the curtest of glances and the shortest 'thanks' she could get away with.
Your own mask of indifference slipping for a moment and knowing King and Percy were out chasing a lead, you grabbed her hand as it grabbed the pastry.
"We need to talk, Merri."
"There's nothing to talk about other than the Delaney case, Chris."
"There is, you know there is. We…I…I can't go on like this."
As an afterthought: "I miss you."
She shook her head in a dismissive way and for a moment, you wanted to haul her up and either kiss her senseless or shake the stuffing out of her, whatever method worked better to make her see that this is killing you.
"There's nothing to miss. We're partners. That's all."
Ouch.
"Merri…"
"Drop it, Chris. Thanks for the pastry, but now leave me alone. I have stuff to do."
You retreated, defeated once again. It's not surprising, but that doesn't make it any less painful. Being right all along doesn't particularly make you feel warm and fuzzy inside. Still, you have to try and get your game face back on before your boss shows up again. No need to alarm him even further.
So far, you pride yourself on the fact you can still focus your attention on your job and King hasn't felt the need to get in your way (much as you care for your boss and mentor, you don't feel like having a father/son heart-to-heart about this), but the man definitely ain't crazy and one of these days he'll notice the tension between the two of you and he'll want to know what's what.
And then what will you tell him? What will Merri tell him if he gets to her first? Isn't it better to just get this over with between yourselves? It's not like you're looking forward to opening up to your mentor about this…whatever it is. But how can you avoid that when she keeps avoiding you?
Help. You need help. From someone who's on your hand and won't ask questions…someone with access to Merri, someone she trusts too. Someone to bridge the gap…
Sonja? No, too snappish. Sebastian? Too awkward. Patton? Too curious.
Aha! Loretta.
Her landlord and both your friend and hers. Why didn't you think of her sooner?
Good thing you still have some stuff to pick up at the morgue, so you jump in your car and head over there. All case-related questions asked and answered, you linger at the kind examiner's lab for longer than you're used to (it's not exactly a place one picks to socialize), causing her to look at you with an expectant smile on her face.
"Talk to me, Chris."
"What?"
"You clearly have something on your mind you need to share, so just do so. I'll listen and help if I can."
You sigh in relief.
"This'll stay between us?"
"Of course. The other people in this room aren't likely to talk."
You smile wanly at her lame joke, but you know she won't betray your trust and that you never needed to ask in the first place.
"I need to talk to Merri."
Loretta nods.
"And the reason you're talking to me instead is…?"
Oh please, Lord, let this be a good idea.
"Well…eh…stuff…eh…stuff happened…in Jackson…"
Wow, very eloquent. Helpful too.
"I'm sorry, honey, but I have no idea what you're talking about. Come with me."
She gently leads you away from the less than comfortable confinements of the morgue and, after she discards her gloves, hairnet and lab coat and throws them in the designated trash and laundry baskets, takes you outside in the balmy late afternoon New Orleans air.
"Let's go get some coffee. My treat."
You find an empty table at one of the city's many café's and place your orders. Once two steaming hot beverages are placed in front of you and you've taken your first grateful sip, you know you can't stall the conversation any longer and start telling your tale. As promised, the kind ME listens without interrupting once, her features set in a neutral expression. After you finish your, basically, sob-story, you suddenly feel exhausted and infinitely sad. Loretta, noticing this, puts her hand on yours in a comforting gesture.
"Chris, do you love her?"
There's no way you can deny it and get away with it, the ability to lie convincingly eluding you in the wake of your draining weeks, as does the reason you should still lie to begin with.
"Yes. I love Merri."
"Then I'll try to get her to talk to you. Don't expect any miracles, but I'll see what I can do for you."
"Thanks. But, Loretta…"
"Yes?"
"Do you think it's wise? For me and Merri to date, assuming she'll dare to take a chance on me, on us? We do have to work together, there are rules…"
"Love never is wise, dear boy. But you both need and deserve it and I'm sure there's a way to work around the rules. Don't let them limit you, Chris. Not when you have this much love to give."
You sigh, a little more hopeful than when you started this conversation, but not yet daring to believe you might actually…with Merri…
Loretta reassures you.
"Keep your chin up. We'll find a way. I'm sure of it."
After that, you walk back to the morgue together and step back into your truck, happier now than when you went.
At least you got an accomplice now.
You're no longer fighting alone.
***CL&MB***
To be honest, you were a little surprised when your friend and landlord asked you to come over and have dinner with her. Yes, you consider her your friend, but it's not like you spend an awful lot of time with her. But, as Loretta was quick to explain, both Danny and CJ were gone for the weekend and she didn't like to eat all by herself. So you took her invitation.
It's not like your own evenings by yourself are so much fun…
When you walk into the ME's wide open patio doors, bottle of wine in hand, a lovely smell comes from the kitchen. You feel a bit guilty; you had no idea she would go through so much trouble preparing you a meal; had kind of assumed she would have ordered a pizza or something.
But then again, that's your MO. Doesn't mean other people do the same. Loretta has a family to take care of. She's not alone.
Like you are.
It's a constant nagging pain in your gut, one you had hoped would disappear in time. Three weeks apparently is not long enough to get used to the loss of your friend, even if you instigated the loss yourself.
You know he's hurting too. Can feel his eyes on you, optimistic and perhaps even a bit hopeful at first, than losing their sparkle as the days wore on and you still didn't acknowledge him. This new, subdued version of the once exuberant agent is painful to watch, even more so because you know you created this version, you're the cause of the doused fire in his once clear gaze.
God, you miss him!
There is, of course, a solution. But you're too afraid to use it. What's the point in getting close to him again if there can never be a future between the two of you?
You've given it plenty of thought, especially on the long drive back from Jackson. Had you told him then that you love him (which you know you do) and had he told you he feels the same for you (which Courtney is convinced of), you know he would have promised to put the world at your feet. Chris LaSalle doesn't do anything halfway. So yes, he would have had no qualms about giving up his job for you.
But you would have.
Chris loves his job. He's good at it, great even. It suits him. It's in his very blood, as much as the city itself is. And you can't, you won't take it away from him.
Yes, he could probably get his old job at NOPD back; you know his former Lieutenant would love for him to join his ranks again, but still, what would that mean?
A pay cut, probably. Not that Chris would mind, he's not a very high-maintenance man, but you do mind on his behalf. A federal agent doesn't make six figures by a long shot, but Chris deserves every penny he gets and not one less.
Plus, who would watch his back? The trust between him and Pride, between him and yourself (in the field at least), even between him and Sonja these days is absolute. And reciprocated. Who'd watch his back at NOPD? Would he be able to trust his partner the same way he can trust your little family? Could you put your faith in his replacement at NCIS, without resenting him or her for taking Chris's place? His desk?
Just thinking of anyone else sitting there (no more candy-wrappers or Lego pieces strewn about, no more crumbled pieces of potato chips embedded in your laptop keyboard) makes you feel sick.
And what if he would start hating his new job? Would start to miss hanging out with you all? Not that he would no longer be welcome at Pride's bar, but still, he'd be somewhat of an outsider. Then what? He would come to resent you for it, that's what. You would have fought to keep him, only to lose him anyway.
So no, giving into your feelings for him is not an option. Best to douse it and if that won't work, just let it simmer, keep an eye on it so it won't boil over and hope and pray it'll pass. Maybe if you find someone else…
Is James still available?
And what if Chris finds someone else first?
But hey, this is supposed to be a relaxed evening between two women who happen to be friends. You owe it to your hostess to at least make an effort to make this a nice evening. Especially now she has gone through so much trouble fixing you something delicious, at least by the smell of it.
The patio doors close behind you and, slightly startled, you look around to greet…
Obviously not Loretta.
He looks good. Tired but determined. With the element of surprise, he clearly has the advantage over you.
You? You feel betrayed. By Loretta, by him and most of all by the critters in your stomach, who can't seem to decide whether they're supposed to be happy or nervous to see him.
You're actually a bit of both, yet not ready to admit it. To either yourself or him. Least of al him.
The resulting emotion is anger. You don't like being trapped and played for a fool.
"LaSalle! What the hell are you doing here? Did you set this up?"
"Merri, please, I…"
Not listening, you rant on.
"I'm gonna kill Loretta! She had no right to do this. YOU had no right, you both…I…"
You vault for the patio doors, but they are locked. He must have locked them right after you came in. Okay, front door then.
Two strong arms stop you, but, kicking and screaming, you break loose and try again, in total panic mode now. Yet, he grips you again, holding you tight until you're too tired to struggle. Then, as his scent, his warmth, his closeness for the first time in over three weeks takes over your senses, your poor abused soul gives up.
God, how you missed this. How you need this…just for a moment. You need to indulge, just for a moment.
Like a junkie getting his first shot in weeks, your traitorous body and conspiring heart curl into his warmth, breathing him in, shaking with the futile exertion of resisting him.
"Sssh, Merri, sweet Merri. Please don't be mad, don't leave, I just need to talk to you."
When he senses you've calmed down enough not to attempt another mad dash to the front door, he lets go of his grip on you. You barely suppress the shiver running through you now that your body is being deprived of its source of warmth.
"Can we talk, please?"
Well, you suppose you can, as long as he doesn't expect any fairytales. So you nod, still on guard, still checking your escape routes, not at all convinced you no longer need them.
He starts with the opening gambit you expected him to use. Yet, for all your expectations, you're horribly ill-prepared and his question hits you like a ton of bricks falling on your head.
"Why are you avoiding me?"
His tone is not accusatory, though you wish it was. Anger you can rebuke, but this…this infinite sadness, the fatigue…how does one answer to that?
"You know why."
It's a cheap shot and you know it, but perhaps it can buy you some time. For what, you have no clue. It's not like you can think properly from beneath all those bricks you're covered with.
"I can guess why, yes. But I want to hear it from you."
"Why? What's the point?"
In your own ears, you sound as exhausted as he appears to be, but he still has the upper hand, so you feel justified in our recalcitrant behavior. You were the one ambushed after all.
"The point is, we need to end this stalemate one way or another. I'm tired of walking on eggshells around you. I'm just…God, Merri, I'm just tired. Can you imagine that?"
Why yes you can. But the alternative is breaking his heart forever, as well as yours. Doesn't he get that? Doesn't he understand you're merely trying to protect him and the friendship you have?
Or had, anyway?
"So, Merri, just tell me the truth here. Why have you been going out of your way not to be near me? Are you really that repulsed by me? By what we did?"
The last part comes out as a strangled whisper, like he's having trouble getting the words out. Regardless of the troubles he's having uttering them, they hit their target with uncanny precision, causing you to gasp in pain.
What have you done?
"No! God Chris, is that what you thought?"
"What else was I supposed to think? You haven't as much as looked at me since it happened and we've been back for weeks!"
He's got you there. And you don't like it. This is not going your way, though you'll be damned if you know what way that would be. Damn those bricks, they gave you a concussion.
Chivalrous as ever, Chris gives you a moment to gather your (very wide-spread) wits as you sink in one of Loretta's kitchen chairs. Slowly, weighing every word, you start to talk, hoping to ease the blow you know you'll be giving him.
"I'm not repulsed by you or the night we spent together. It was too beautiful for that and I don't hold any regrets. But Chris…what happened in Jackson really needs to stay there. It can't be more than just a memory. We can't afford it to be more."
"Why not?"
Oh please, don't make it so difficult. Don't make me say things I don't want to say out loud. Ever.
"For starters, we're not in love."
He laughs bitterly.
"Speak for yourself."
Why, Chris? Why are you so hell-bent on impaling yourself? Take it back, please take it back. Your silent prayers of course fall on deaf ears. Chris has always been too honest for his own good. He will not deny the feelings he has just to pacify you.
His love for you is all the more real for it. And all the more devastating for the both of you.
"Unless…you can't, can you?"
His smile is half triumph, half hope as he reads the secret in your eyes before it can spill from your lips.
"You love me too, don't you Merri?"
"No, Chris…no…"
He steps closer, his arms wrapping themselves around you again, holding on strong, but not tight. His breath is warm against your cheek as he whispers in your ear.
"Why are you denying the obvious truth, Merri? You love me, I can tell."
It's so tempting to just give in. To let him take what he wants, what you want too. But you can't. It's too dangerous. You'll end up hurting him. His career. His life. Everything he's worked so hard for in his life.
Taking in a deep, shuddering breath and trying to ignore the pain you know you're about to inflict, you meet his eyes.
"I can't, Chris. We can't…"
He's not letting go, still persisting, stubborn as a mule.
"We can. We can have it, make it work."
Maybe getting angry helps. You start to pummel his chest with your fists, pretending not to see the pain of your constant rejection in his clouded blue gaze.
"No, we can't! There are rules set against it. It'll end either your or my career. We could never be partners anymore."
"Do you think King cares more about enforcing the rules than about us? And do you really believe my career matters more to me than you do?"
"Pride may not care, but as soon as they'd find out about us in Washington, they'll force his hand. And you may not care about that, but I do."
"Even if that would happen, it'll be okay. I can easily switch back to NOPD."
"Damn it, Chris, I don't want you to switch back! I don't want you to give up the work you love and I don't want to have to give up the partner I trust to have my back. If I need to choose between having you as a work partner of a life partner, I think I should pick the former. I don't want to have to work with someone else, not even with Pride or Sonja."
In the light of your decision, he does let go of you, but instead of looking defeated, his features still show a steely determination. Christopher LaSalle wants it all and he'll fight to have it. Stupidly enough, your heart can't decide whether this angers you or gives you hope.
Is there still hope? Could there be?
Raking his hand over his face, he takes a moment to prepare for the next round.
"Okay, let's recap for a moment, see what we've learned so far."
He sounds so much like Pride right now, you smother a small smile. Can't blame the guy for his analytical approach.
"First: I love you and you love me. No denying that anymore. But you don't want to start a relationship out of fear that we can't work together if either one of us is forced to resign, right?"
You nod, indeed unable to deny anything, though it's slightly disturbing to have all your deepest feelings being brought back down to almost clinical facts.
"Let me ask you something…if I can figure out a way to somehow circumvent the rules in a way that makes it possible for us to be together as both work and life partners, will you give us a chance?"
Oh sweet dreamer…
"Chris, how on earth…"
"Let me worry about the how. Just answer me, Merri."
Maybe you should tell him no, just to spare him the frustration of trying to find a way out of this catch-22. But you can't, because the dream is too tempting. What if he can? What if there actually is a way around this? A loophole in your contracts? A deal to strike?
So you nod, sealing your fate.
"Okay. If you can figure this out, I'll give us a chance. But Chris…"
"What?"
"You have to promise me one thing…if this doesn't work out the way we hope, will you let it go? Can you?"
It's a devastating promise you want him to make, but if this turns South (and since you're not known for your eternal optimism; you still think it's the most likely outcome), you need to know you can still remain professionals, if not friends.
He sighs, before nodding.
"It'll be hard, but yeah…if I can't find a way to work around this, then I'll let it go."
Somehow, this doesn't pacify you the way you thought it would. But since you asked for it…
"You…eh…you still want to eat something?"
You can't say you're particularly hungry, but he has gone through the trouble of preparing you a meal and to turn him down now would be rude, however weird this dinner may be in the light of your discussion.
So you nod and allow him to fill your plate with the curry chicken he's prepared. You take a delicate bite and hum in appreciation. Damn, the man can cook!
He grins at your face, contorted in ecstasy as you take another, much bigger bite.
"That's the kind of rapture I want to put on your face every day."
Almost choking, you cough until he hands you a glass of water, cheeks burning for more than one reason.
"So sorry, just couldn't help myself."
Yeah, if only you believed that. He's about as sincere as the cat who ate the canary. Yet, it shows you that he really wants to be with you and corny though his lines may be; it really is nice to know you're wanted and desired.
You only hope he knows how much you appreciate it and him. How much you really want to figure out a way to be together without breaking any fraternization rules. So you tell him, just to be sure. And get a sweet smile in return.
"Be hopeful, sweet Merri. We'll find a way."
Be hopeful. Not easy, but for both your sakes, you'll try your hardest.
TBC…
So…any thoughts? I'm always happy to hear them. Thanks for reading.