Damn, the man looks good. Well, admittedly, he looks good in anything (and nothing, especially in nothing; with maybe only those handcuffs and a can of whipped cream, hmmm yummy) and you never thought of yourself as a sucker for men in uniform, but oooh boy. Your hormone-fueled body is attracted to the dress blues like a moth to a flame and you'd be lying if you said you weren't trying your hardest to refrain from drooling.
Of course he catches you ogling (busted, Brody!) and the smirk on his handsome features only adds to his attractiveness. As well as the fact he's doing this all for you.
How could you have fooled yourself; thinking it was better not to have any of this?
God, how you adore him.
It's nine AM, way too early for your sleep-deprived body as its stamina was thoroughly put through the test last night. After helping him dig out the dress pants and shirt he hadn't worn in a decade and him trying it on for size (marveling at the fact that, though a bit snug around his biceps, it still fit), you were equally quick at stripping him out of it, not caring about your wrist that was still in its cast (only two more weeks to go) and the consequent ripping of one of your better looking shirts.
Oh well, in this case, the end truly did justify the means. For weeks you've been trying to convince yourself that your one night together was embellished and that it had not been as spectacular is you remembered it to be.
Well, whatever it is, last night proved one thing: you two are an unbelievable match between the sheets. It was by far the most rewarding, most relaxed and yes, most loving time you ever spent with any man, even better than in Jackson, because last night wasn't born out of some desperate need, but rather out of finally and fully acknowledging your mutual decision to give this relationship a real chance.
Plus, thinking about last night is certainly better than watching poor Chris LaSalle struggle with nerves right now. For some reason, explaining his appearance as well as his decision to your coworkers makes him queasy, not sure if they'll accept the new status quo. All but perhaps Loretta will be quite surprised.
First one to arrive on the scene (except for Deeks, who accepted Pride's offer to stay for the night and Pride himself, who was waiting for you with fresh coffee and beignets to celebrate the occasion) is Sonja. As she strolls into the kitchen where the four of you are gathered, she does a double take at the sight of your uniformed partner.
"Look at you, country mouse. Halloween starting early this year? And who may our guest be?"
"Get your panties out of a twist, Percy. All will be explained soon. Have some coffee."
Shrugging, Sonja accepts a mug of hot liquid from Pride and sits down, a frown still adorning her features as she studies Deeks, who remains stoic underneath her scrutinizing gaze.
Next to show up is Patton, who actually hits the brakes on his wheelchair so hard they screech.
"What has happened here? Joined a strip club? And who may this be?"
He too is brought to silence by a cup of coffee, him and Percy sharing confused looks over the table.
When twenty minutes later, both Sebastian and Loretta arrive, everyone of importance is here. Again, you can tell just by the way Chris swallows his last sip of coffee how nervous he really is. Strange how, after such a short time of being intimate, you are already so tuned in to even his smallest gestures and facial expressions.
Deliberately standing away from the others, he starts his explanation, but bewildered, he looks at his (former) boss, who understand and takes over.
"I guess you're all wondering why Christopher is in his old NOPD dress blues, so let me tell you. As of later today, there will be no more Special Agent LaSalle. Instead, Christopher will be once more Detective LaSalle, NOPD."
"You're leaving us? Why?"
Sonja looks a little put off, switching looks between Pride and Chris, looking like someone watching a tennis match.
"He's not. Chris will remain exactly where he is, working as a communications officer between NOPD and NCIS. He'll still be working from this office, going to crime scenes and following our lead, but ultimately, he'll decide on which cases we need to share jurisdiction with NOPD and when to keep both agencies in the loop on current cases. It should make for quicker results and better understanding between both agencies."
Sonja, still flabbergasted, nods and keeps her mouth shut, but Patton is yet to be satisfied.
"That's all very well, but what brought this on? Whose idea was this to begin with? And by the way, who's the new dude here?"
"The new dude is LAPD Detective Marty Deeks, who plays a similar role at our Los Angeles Office. He's been paramount in getting this liaison function sanctioned."
"OK, that answers one question, but how about the other one. Why?"
Now it's time for Pride to let Chris do the explaining and, scraping his throat, he catches your eye. Sending him as much strength as you can convey without moving, he starts his own part of the story.
"Pride came up with the idea to create this position to help me circumvent certain NCIS rules and regulations, without actually having to quit working here."
"What kind?" Sonja now asks, eager to know the whole story.
A mild blush is spreading on your adorable partner's face. It's all you can do to remain standing at a distance.
"The eh…the fraternization kind."
Though of course everybody knows what those rules are all about, all newly gathered people exchange looks of utter bewilderment. All except for Loretta, who is trying to hide a knowing smile, clearly happy her own moment of meddling has paid off.
"Fraternization? Who the hell is here for you to fraternize with?" Sonja again questions.
Now Chris grins.
"Well, since I haven't switched sides and turned gay overnight and it's not you and, bless her, not Miss Loretta, that only leaves one possibility, doesn't it, city-mouse?"
With that, he reaches out his hand for you to take and, smiling and letting all your love for this amazing man shine through, you move forward to take it. He kisses the back of your hand as you take a stand next to him, beaming with love and pride.
If this were a cartoon, you could probably see the younger Agent's jaw dropping on the floor as her eyes bulge straight out of their sockets. The silence is so deafening for a moment, you wouldn't be surprised if you would see tumbleweeds come flying by.
It's then that Loretta comes to the rescue again.
"Well, my children, if this is what makes you happy, than I am happy for you too. Congratulations, Honey, on both the job and the chance of love."
She pulls Chris in for a hug and includes you too. You whisper a quick word of thanks in her ear. If it wasn't for Loretta…
Sonja however, is still not quite getting it.
"This is a joke, right? Some kind of pre-Halloween, April fools, Voodoo thing?"
"It's October, Percy, bit too late for April fools. And no, we ain't bewitched either. We've fallen in love, that's all."
Though the grin is still on his face as you both now accept the well-wishes of Patton and (a little awkwardly as usual) Sebastian, you can tell he's getting annoyed by the snotty behavior of the other agent. Why is it so hard for her to understand that some people are capable of developing deeper feelings for one another?
Why can't she just be happy for you? Well, apparently, she can't because she now turns on you.
"Oh, come on Brody, don't tell me you're into this joke too?"
Sigh. Keep calm. Chris's grip on your hand steadies you.
"Do you see me laughing?"
She still doesn't look at all convinced and when she rolls her eyes in disgust, you've had enough. Now normally, you're not one for PDA, but just to prove a point, you pull Chris closer to you and place your lips on his. Reacting immediately and instinctively, Chris answers and even deepens the kiss, causing you to momentarily forget where you are and who is surrounding you.
A hand on Chris's shoulder makes your partner retreat and the loss of contact (you barely stifle your mewl of disappointment) plunges you both back to reality. Looking around, your cheeks burn with shame. Patton is falling out of his chair with laughter, Sebastian is chewing on his thumbnail and is muttering in himself and Percy is staring at you with a mutinous look on her face, but at least she's silent.
"Okay, point proven, knock it off you two."
Pride as always, is the calm voice of reason, neither shaming nor goading you.
A little shamefaced, you bury your red face in Chris's neck, but with a chuckle and a small peck on your cheek, he lets go of you, rubbing his own face to get the pinkish tinge off his cheeks.
Too bad embarrassed Chris is all kinds of adorable to you. God, you can't wait to get him alone tonight…better keep some more distance between the two of you, or you may not be held responsible for your next course of action.
Chris is more successful in overcoming his awkwardness than you are as now all your coworkers join in to congratulate the both of you on your found love and Chris's new position. Graciously, he accepts all well-wishes and invites all who want to join him later for the little reinstatement ceremony at NOPD.
Sebastian declines, claiming he has too much work to get back to, which is no surprise. Gatherings like these tend to make him nervous, so you let the obvious excuse go.
Patton and Loretta are in, also not surprisingly. Sonja hesitates, knowing she has again put her foot in her mouth. But Chris being Chris, he's a lot quicker to forgive than you are and badgers her into coming along.
Your party of seven leaves somewhat later and are being met by another small group of Chris's new NOPD Vice team, most of which he already knows and likes. You actually feel a bit emotional when you watch him sign his new contract and get sworn in by Mack Garrity.
He did this all for you. How did you come to deserve such a man? You're convinced you don't, but you're determined to work your hardest to get there. It takes a while after that with people tumbling all over themselves to shake his hand, for him to reach you.
Grinning like a kid, he shows you his badge.
"Like that Merri?"
Oh yes, you like.
Checking if no one else is watching, you quickly peck his lips.
"Thank you, Chris, for doing this for me, for us."
"Best of both worlds, Sweet Merri. I'm glad we found a way."
"Me too. Real glad."
He smirks against you lips, stealing one more kiss before whispering in your ear.
"I'm taking these cuffs home tonight. You can show me exactly how glad you are…"
There are a gazillion of answers to give to that, but as you're soon surrounded by people again, you refrain from mentioning any of them.
But indeed, you're planning on showing him tonight.
Is there anything sexier than Meredith Brody wearing your dress blue shirt unbuttoned over her naked chest while being cuffed to your bedposts? If there is, you'd like to see it, but you don't think anything can top the way she looked the night after your installation as NOPD officer. You really made the most out of your 'good cop vs bad cop' fantasy and gave her all the corporal punishment she so well and truly deserved. You're almost sad now that you won't get to wear the shirt more often, but then again, if you do, you'll probably make a fool of yourself by standing at attention in more ways than one.
God, how you love her and God how wonderful it is to be able to just say so, out loud, whenever you want to. To have her say it back without the slightest hint of hesitation. To tell by looking at her that she means it and to show her every which way you can think of you mean it too.
Strange how you never envisioned yourself being all domestic with Savannah, even though you had cleaned out some closet space for her and had basically asked her to move in with you. Now, with Merri, it comes natural. There is hardly any thought process involved, but only a few weeks after your reinstatement, she's practically living with you. Several articles of clothing have found their way into your closet, her toiletries take up more space in your bathroom than yours and she's even changed your darn voicemail message. A flawless migration of lives.
And where you had once assumed the lack of privacy and the feminizing of your bachelor pad (sometimes you joke with her that you were happier when most of her girly stuff was still safely packed away in her moving boxes) would choke the life out of you, you're oddly at peace with it. Might even come to love it, since you find yourself missing her when she's at her own space for whatever reason, holding onto her pillow by lack of warm body to curl yourself around.
These days, those occasions are few and far between and though you don't have any kind of schedule, it always works out naturally.
At work, nothing has really changed. People have gotten used to the status quo by now and though you may blurt out 'Federal Agent' by mistake more than once, there's really no one in a hurry to correct you. So far, NOPD seems to trust you in your new role and indeed, communication between both local and federal law enforcement offices seems to be going a lot more smoothly these days.
A few weeks into your new settlement, Pride motions you over and hands you a report marked "Classified".
"I pulled some strings. Show this to Merri, before the evening news gets a hold of the story. I think it'll be easier coming from you."
Intrigued and instinctively knowing you may not like whatever is in this folder, you take your girlfriend's hand and lead her to the courtyard. Heads close together, you open the file.
It's the official report of the inquiry into the train accident.
Scanning through the content, you find the cause. And what you read there is a blow to your senses.
The train was derailed when the driver missed a signal. At first, his mistake was determined to be nothing more than that. Until, after some digging into the man's private life, authorities found a hefty sum of money on an offshore account and a bundle of websites and emails linked to an American based, pro-Islamic organization.
That changed the outlook on things. Suddenly, the derailment was said to be intentional. An attack. That part will probably make the headlines by tomorrow or perhaps sooner than that.
At least the bastard survived and as soon as he's back on his feet he will stand trial for his actions. God, you hope this will be dealt with under the Patriot Act, which means this a-hole will never see freedom again. Hell, you'll transport him to Gitmo yourself if you have to. Gladly so.
Twenty people dead (the last victim; a 65-year old recently retired man travelling with his wife, succumbed to his burn injuries only a few days ago) and still dozens in the hospital or rehab. All because some crazed man wanted to kill some 'infidels' and make a name for himself as a martyr. What world is it you live in these days?
Merri pushes the file away. This should be nothing new to either one of you; you've dealt with even worse criminals before, but it's always more difficult when loved ones are involved. When it becomes personal.
You gather her in your arms as she cries on your shoulder, glad to be able to comfort her this way. She then pulls out her phone and with Pride's permission, calls her cousin. Courtney, who, come to think of it, doesn't even know about the two of you yet.
As far as you can listen in, she takes it rather well, though she of course, is shocked that someone was out to kill her and the other passengers. And that he partly succeeded.
She hangs up with the promise to see her again soon. Something you wholeheartedly agree with.
That night, for some reason, your lovemaking is more potent, more charged as you try and convey all your feelings for her throughout the melting of your bodies.
I love you. I'll watch over you. I'll give my life to keep you safe. You're safe here with me. I love you.
Because you do.
And that's just the way it should be.
Epilogue:
"I have no idea how one person can accumulate this much crap in forty years," your cousin mumbles as she drags yet another heavy box in the so far empty room of her newly bought home.
In New Orleans.
"I don't know either, but I do recognize it from a certain someone," your boyfriend pipes in, carrying two boxes stacked on top of each other and balancing them precariously as he steps over the threshold.
You would whack him upside the head with the paperback book you're holding, if you weren't so concerned he would actually take a tumble.
Annoying man-child he may be from time to time, you're still as crazy about him as you were when you started dating, now almost a year ago.
A lot has happened since, both for you and Courtney. Both of you testified in court during the trial of the train driver, which was hard, but cathartic. He's rotting away in a maximum security prison where he'll spend twenty-three hours of his days in isolation, until the state of Mississippi decides it's time to put the needle in his veins.
For your cousin though, it was not her only time to testify in court. A few weeks after she came home from the train collision, Mark came home after a weekend with his father, sporting a black eye. Not trusting his story about walking into a kitchen cabinet door (the growing boy is clumsy sometimes, but no idiot), she did some poking and prodding and found out her ex had beaten his son for running away to see his wounded mother.
She went to confront him, which earned her a black eye for her trouble. Luckily, the neighbors heard the yelling and called the police.
Adrian was now in jail for assault on his ex and minor son and Courtney successfully filed for sole custody.
Wanting to make a brand new start, far away from all that has happened to her, she decided to move to New Orleans to be closer to you. Mark is thrilled to start a new chapter in his life, already submerging himself into the rich culture and striking up a friendship with Danny and CJ, all within the first few days of moving in. He'll start school next semester and is looking to join the local football team. It's good to know that the fall-out with his father hasn't left any lasting impression on him, other than a fierce protectiveness over his mother.
Also, he worships Chris and you're happy your young second cousin (more like a nephew to you) has found a much stronger, more reliable male role model in your boyfriend.
You and Chris are doing fine. You've now officially moved in with him and give or take a few small altercations, you're getting along very well. He's just so damn sweet and considerate. Sometimes you still think he's selling himself short, but then again, he's an adult and not exactly a pushover.
He just loves you so fully, so completely, it sometimes terrifies you. Will you ever be able to give back to him what he gives you? Whenever your doubts set in, he's quick to reassure you. He loves you for who you are, flaws and all and in his own words, he 'ain't no saint himself'.
Mostly, that's enough for you.
That evening, as the four of you share the best of take-out Cajun food the city has to offer, you look around with a sense of contentment.
Everything and everyone you care about is right where they should be.
Near you.
THE END