Thank you, everyone, again, for all the awesome feedback!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ---Mac

Chapter 9

I nearly choke on my sandwich as I process what he's just said. Cooper, I mean. He wants… he wants to work on a case with me! To detect things! Once again, with me! Heather Wells! We'd be partners! Like Maddie Hayes and David Addison! Like Cagney and Lacey! Like Lois and Clark!

This is it! This is the first step! Partners. Next step? Marriage. Ooh, my life plan is actually working!

"Earth to Heather."

I look at Cooper. "I agree," I say, excitedly. I've never agreed more with anything in my life. But I don't say that. I don't want to scare him off with my zeal.

"Agree with what?" he asks. "You kind of zoned out for a few minutes. I forgot what we were talking about." I think he's joking, because he has that look on his face, like he's slightly amused or something.

"I'm agreeing to be your partner in crime," I clarify for him. "This is going to be great! We'll be Wells and Cartwright!"

"Sounds like the name of a bank," he quips.

"So how exactly are we investigating? I mean… we have a suspect. Do we just follow him?"

"Not exactly."

"Maybe we should act like things are normal," I say, my mind fast at work. "I mean, he doesn't know what I'm thinking, that I suspect him of anything. So tonight, I can go over there—"

"—you aren't going anywhere near him. Not alone."

"But Cooper, it would be the ultimate disguise. I'm dating him. I could wear a wire and get him to talk or—"

"No," he says, in such a way that I don't open the argument back up for discussion at all. I can see that there's absolutely, positively nothing I could say that would make him agree to let me near that man on my own.

"This is going to be a tough partnership if you just throw away all of my ideas," I say lightly.

He sits back and smirks a little. "I'm sorry if my goal to keep you safe is getting in the way of your instincts to dive head first into trouble," he says, and I narrow my eyes at him at that.

"So what do you need my help with, then?" I ask, eager to get moving on our first case together.

"We'll go over that later," he says. "But you should know that part of the reason I'm partnering up with you on this case is because nothing could stop me from investigating it and I refuse to leave you alone. There really wasn't a way around it."

There goes my life plan, I realize dejectedly. Well, it was a nice dream while it lasted. I stand up and glare down at him, feigning annoyance. "You know, sometimes it's just nicer to lie," I say, before stalking away.

He stands up and immediately is in stride with me. And laughing! On the one hand, it's nice to see him laughing. He's had a pretty bad couple of days (I mean, come on, a half hour ago he was hitting a wall!) and his smile is so insanely handsome and beautiful and, for me, calming. On the other hand, however, I can't help but feel annoyed he's laughing at me! We've only just begun our life of detection as partners, and he's already making fun of me.

"I'm sorry," he says eventually, as we leave the deli. "I think it'll be great working with you."

"Well, don't overdue it."

"No, really. Your track record for getting your man is pretty good."

"It's one hundred percent!" I say.

"Right. Out of two cases," he adds quietly.

I stop and look up at him and he chuckles softly.

Man, if it weren't so nice to see that smile, I could be really mad at him for mocking my detecting skills in such a blatant way.

"Cooper?" a female voice says.

I look over and see a familiar-looking woman saunter over toward us.

"Marian," he says.

Then I remember… the night we were at the Pansy Award ceremony and I was unaware that my boss was the person I should have been trying to get dirt on, instead of the son of the president of the college, this woman, Marian, was there. She was being all cozy-like with Cooper, and he looked uncomfortable and upset. And unless I'm mistaken, he kind of looks upset to see her now, too.

I'm pretty sure they dated. And the last time I saw her, she looked upset by how their conversation went. So I'm not sure why she looks so happy to see him now. Again, he doesn't look that way at all. Happy, I mean. Maybe they saw each other after the Pansy Awards, to talk about things. Maybe they talked and made up. And then hooked up! Maybe it made her think they were getting back together, even though for him it wasn't like that at all!

Or maybe she's just happy to see him, and I'm spending way too much time reading into every little thing she's doing because she's kind of making me jealous. Because she's so totally more Cooper's type than I am, which means that I really don't like standing next to her. If you know what I mean.

"You remember Heather," he says to Marian.

"Sure. Heather. You're the dorm assistant," she says all snootily, quickly looking me up and down. You know, nonchalantly.

"Residence Hall," Cooper says, as defensively as I would've said it, if I'd had the chance. "Assistant Director."

"Oh," Marian says. "Well, nice to see you again," she says to me, like she means it or something. Which I know she doesn't. Mean it, I mean. She clearly wishes the ground would swallow me up so she can be alone with Cooper.

"You too," I say.

Then no one says anything. At all. Cooper looks around quickly, and Marian stares at him, probably thinking about all those times she tore his clothes off with her teeth. Lucky duck.

Since it's all very uncomfortable, I look at the ground. I mean, what else is there to do?

"So, what have you been up to lately?" Marian asks Cooper.

"Not much, really," Cooper says politely. "You?"

"Same," she says. Then she laughs. "This is all so formal."

He smiles, though I can see that the smile doesn't reach all the way to his eyes.

Marian looks at me. "Would you mind, Heather, if Cooper and I just had one minute alone?"

"Sure," I say, happy for an excuse to walk away from the awkward situation. I turn to do just that – walk away, I mean – when I feel a hand – Cooper's hand, I know without looking – grab mine.

He grabs it and holds it and I turn to look at him, curiously. "I'll just go over there," I assure him, pointing to a bench not twenty feet away.

He shakes his head and squeezes my hand gently, reassuringly, letting me know that I'm not going anywhere. I'm staying with him. By his side.

He turns to Marian. "This really isn't a good time," he says.

"Um, okay," she says, looking from him to me confusedly. "Well, when is?"

He sighs. "There's nothing more for us to say," he says to her, kind of awkwardly. It's awkward probably because I'm there, I realize. "So I don't think we need to make time to talk." They're harsh words, really, but he manages to say them in a really nice way. If rejection can be that. Nice, I mean.

"I see," she says. And then I see it. That look I saw that night. She's pissed at him. And from the way she looks at me, I think she may be pissed at me too. "Well, good seeing you," she says, though she doesn't look like she means that at all.

"You too," he says quickly. And then she turns on her heel and is off.

I look at Cooper and laugh, once we're alone again. "You know, I am a big girl, Coop. I can sit on a bench and not cause any trouble," I say. "You could've talked to her."

"It's okay," he says. "Really."

"But… you have a life, Coop. You can't just abandon it. I mean, you keep pushing people away, when this case is over, you won't have a life left."

He looks down at me and studies me for a moment. "Heather, don't you know anything?"

I stare at him, not liking where this is going. "Huh?" I say, eloquently I might add.

"You want me to stop working on this case and live my life?"

"For a minute, yeah," I say. "I don't think it would hurt, that's all. I mean, I just want you to have a life to get back to when all is said and done."

He shakes his head. "Heather, if something happens to you because I'm trying to live my life, my life's not worth much."

"Huh?" I say again. Because I'm not really sure what he's saying.

"Do I really need to tell you that you'rea huge part of my life? Marian… Well, without her, my life is normal. Without you…" he trails off, shaking his head. "I don't want to think about a life like that," he says quietly, looking down. When he looks back up at me, his gaze bores into mine and… I feel like he's telling me something important – something deeply personal – through his eyes.

"That's why this case comes first until it's over," he says, eventually. "I can't afford the consequences at risk here."

The way he's talking, it's like I am his life. But… that can't be true. I mean, I'm his friend, sure. But he has so much else going on! He actually went to college. He has lots of friends! Sure, his family is barely part of his life, but he has them too. And lots of girls that care about him. I think there must be girls he cares about or is currently dating. There's Frank and Patty… I mean, I'm not special or anything. I'm just another person in his life! Although I am his roommate. I guess that makes us a bit closer than all those other people in his life. For now anyway.

I smile, completely happy by what he's told me, even if it is still a bit cryptic to me. Even if I don't know where I fall on his list of people he cares for. For him to say what he's said to me just makes me feel so happy and grateful.

"So what you're saying," I start, coyly, trying to lighten the mood, "is that I'm one of your favorite people in the world."

He laughs softly and shakes his head at me. "You really are," he says, smiling. He says the words in a light way too… and yet…

… I'm not entirely sure he's joking.

Is it possible to fall even more for someone when you've already known you're head over heels in love with them for awhile now? Because I think that just happened. I think I just fell for him all over again.

My cheeks burn as we walk in a peaceful silence through the streets of New York City. I find the bustling atmosphere oddly peaceful, with everything that's been going on in my life lately. Somehow it's more calming for me than total quiet would be. It's the noise of my city. The honking of the horns, the tourists walking aimlessly, yelling at their friends, the hustle… it's normal, and it's really relaxing.

I see our brownstone in the close distance and look at Cooper.

"I'm going to bandage up your hand when we get inside," I say.

"I'm fine," he says. "It doesn't need a bandage."

"Well… let me clean it out and take a look anyway," I say. "Please."

Five minutes later, he's sitting down at the kitchen table, and I'm pulling the First Aid kit out from under the sink.

I take his hand – it's his right hand – and look at it closely, running my fingers over it softly. Gently touching the cuts, looking at the dried blood. "This looks bad, Coop."

"It doesn't really hurt. It's okay," he says.

"You really didn't need to do this," I say. Suddenly I'm nervous because, you know… we're about to have it. The sex talk, I mean. I really don't want to talk to him about this, but… I have to. "The situation with Tad… I mean, it's not what you think."

I grab a wash cloth and gently rub it over the cuts. The dried blood washes away and all that's left are the cuts – which swell the skin around them – and redness. His nice hand is all cut up, because he thought a man who always vowed to make me his actually got me right where he wanted. Between the sheets.

Which he didn't.

I go to the sink and rinse out the cloth and see blood-colored water spill off of it. Oh, Cooper.

"I think that there's a good chance you're dating the man who threatened to kill you the other night," he says, his tone a good deal heavier than it had been outside, after lunch. After Marian walked away. "I think there's a good chance that you're dating a guy that once said he'd do—"

"—well, he didn't do anything," I say, cutting him off. I can't listen to Cooper say it. Say all the things that sick man from those letters had said so blatantly. Besides, the minute he started saying it, his fists curled into balls again. Here I am cleaning up his wounds, and he looks about ready to hit another wall.

"What do you mean?" he asks after a moment, not looking at me.

"We never… um… " I have no idea how to say it. "Well, um, we didn't… do… um… that."

There. That wasn't so hard. I just had to revert to the sixth grade way of wording it.

He looks at me closely. "Heather, I know what you're doing," he eventually says. "And… I really can't handle you lying so I feel better—"

"—I'm not lying!" I say. I take a step back and fix him with a serious look. I cross my arms across my chest. No more games. "We never slept together, Cooper," I say. "We kissed a little. We even made out some. We never had sex. So if this is the same guy, we never got around to doing… what he said… you know…"

He breaks our gaze and looks down, and I see his jaw clenching. "Are you… you're being honest?" he asks.

"Yes, Cooper. Don't you trust me?"

He nods and releases a long sigh of relief, before leaning forward and resting his arms on his thighs. He finally looks up at me. "Why are you telling me this?" he asks.

I let out a disbelieving laugh. "Well… I thought… I mean it seemed like you were…" I shake my head. "Never mind." Clearly he didn't care about whether or not Tad and I had gotten it on. I mean, why else would he ask why I was telling him this?

He stands up and takes a step toward me. "Tell me," he says in that soothing tone that could make me tell him anything. Everything. I could tell him about every hope I have for us, when he talks to me like that.

"It just seemed like the whole thing was making you crazy. And I felt bad. I didn't want you thinking that he made me his or whatever. Because he didn't. We didn't. Have sex, I mean. Oh god. Oh man. Can you just shut me up? I mean, now that I think about it, you probably didn't even think about any of that, so I'm sorry, because now this is just awkward," I say in a rush, staring at the floor.

He places one finger under my chin and lifts my head up, forcing me to look at him. He smiles sympathetically. "No, you were right," he says quietly. "That was… making me crazy. Really crazy," he admits, under his breath. "Thank you for telling me."

I nod.

"I don't understand, though," he says. He puts a hand through his hair and takes a step away from me. I can see how totally uncomfortable he is right now, too. "I mean, you slept there all the time. What were you… why would you…" he looks at me. "Why did you stay there all the time?"

I shrug. "I guess I was trying to give the whole thing an honest go," I say honestly. "But… it never felt right. I always said 'no' and made something up. And he'd go to sleep and I'd stare at the ceiling usually, wishing I was home."

"But you kept going there," he says.

"I kept trying." I sit down at the kitchen table and pull out some Neosporin, gesturing for him to take a seat. He does. I take his hand back and gently rub the gel on his cuts. I stare at the cuts, while I talk. "I realized the other day – the last time I stayed there – that I didn't want to try anymore. My heart clearly wasn't in it. So why would I keep pretending?"

He says nothing for a long while as I turn all shades of red at the nature of the conversation. And he sits there, watching me fix up his hand. I can almost feel his eyes burning holes into me. He's studying me. He does that sometimes. Right now, though, I feel uncomfortable under his scrutiny. Not with how red I am! And this is new to me. I've never felt self-conscious around him before. It makes me feel like a school girl. Oh, I know, he always makes me feel like a school girl. But… this is different. I feel like something's shifted just now between us.

"I missed you when you'd stay there," he says quietly, breaking the silence. Breaking through my thoughts.

I look up at him, shocked by the admission. "Really?" I ask, unable to hide my hope at all.

"Yeah. I kind of missed hearing you play."

"What?" I ask, confused. But then my mouth falls open as realization dawns. He means play the guitar. "You can hear me!"

He nods. "Yeah. You play quietly, but… I can hear it when I fall asleep. The sound of your guitar means you're upstairs. You're safe. You're home." He sighs. "It's weird, really, because I lived here for awhile without you, without that sound. And I was fine. It was weird I'd miss something I went so long without anyway. But I did," he finishes. I see it's his turn to turn red now.

I smile. "I missed you too," I say.

We stare at each other for a moment, and I get lost in those blue eyes. I get lost in dreams of us kissing and living happily ever after, stalkers and bad guys far behind us.

"So," he says, breaking the moment. "What's the diagnosis, doctor? Will I live?"

I am thrown for a moment, until I see those blue eyes glance down at his hands on the table.

"Oh! Um, yeah," I say. "It was a close call, but in the end, I don't think we need to amputate after all."

He smiles. "Then perhaps it would be a good time to discuss our case, then," he says.

"Good call, partner," I say, which makes him shoot me a reproving look.

"Well, there are two things I think we should do right now," he says.

"One," I say.

"We investigate my old leads. The house he grew up in, talk to old neighbors, that kind of thing. See if we can prove it's Tad that way, while Barrett runs his check on the guy."

"Sounds good. Two?" I prompt.

"We draw him out."

"Barrett?"

"Tad," he says impatiently.

"Oh. Right. Well, how do we do that?"

"Based on what happened at the pool, it seems like jealousy is a good way to do that."

He walks away from me and stares at the kitchen cabinets with seemingly growing interest.

"Okay. How do I make him jealous?"

"Make him think you're dating someone else," he says.

"Okay," I say, trying to think of who I could hit on to make Tad really jealous. But I can't think of anyone! "Who?"

Cooper turns around and looks at me intently. He looks nervous. But then he smiles sweetly and shrugs casually. "Me."