Some Kind of Fix
Word Count: 2,760
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Linden/Holder
Spoilers: up to 1x13, just to be safe.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything. I just break things.
Summary: He wants a fix. She's got somewhere to be. Neither of them expected this.
Author's Note: I do not even know what to say at this point.

Some Kind of Relationship

"What are you thinking?"

Linden looked back at Holder as they walked toward the car. She didn't really know what to think of what had gone on back there, and she doubted that anyone else did, either. It wasn't that they had been awkward or anything like that. The whole thing had been surprisingly easy to pull off. Holder had acted like she would have expected. Jack had been confused, and his father annoyed. "That he didn't buy it."

"What, Jack? Did you see the way that kid's eyes were spinning? I think he bought it," Holder told her, and she shook her head.

"I don't mean Jack. I meant his father," she answered, looking back at the two of them across the parking lot. He was frowning at them, and she knew what he was thinking.

"You know it isn't that he doesn't believe that you and I are together. It's that it pisses him off that we're together. He doesn't want to believe that you can actually be happy with anyone. He should be happy that you're not going back to Sonoma just yet, not making that work. He thinks you can't, right? So he should be pleased. But he's not. And you know why? Because you're with someone that isn't him."

"He's not still hung up on me, if that's what you think," Linden told Holder, shaking her head. She knew that her ex wasn't pining for her, not by any means. He had left and moved on years ago. If he had cared at all, he would have stayed around. "He doesn't want me back."

"I didn't say he did, Linden," Holder said, pushing her up against the car. "What I'm saying is that it's not that he doesn't believe we work. He's afraid we work too well, and no matter what he tells your kid, it doesn't change anything. He's just bothered because I know exactly what you are and what we're doing. I even like it. I'm not trying to change you or fooling myself. You?"

She frowned at him. "What the hell are you talking about?"

Holder kissed her neck, and she closed her eyes involuntarily, moaning a little. "He tried to warn me off from you yesterday. I'm telling you: it pisses him off that I refused to listen to him, that you might have something with me because I know you. I'm not fooled by the bullshit, and I'm not stupid enough to try and change you. I've got what I want."

She could feel him pressing against her, trapping her against the car. She wanted to get out of here, or maybe she just wanted the backseat at this point. She wasn't sure. This was crazy. Stupid. She couldn't afford to spend all of her time screwing around with Holder. She didn't even know what she saw in him. He was nothing like the men she was used to.

"Do you? You really have what you want?"

"What is it you think I want, huh?" Holder asked, and when he looked at her, she honestly had no idea what was going on in his head. She didn't think he was really interested in more from her. He wasn't that type. Holder didn't settle. He didn't want a woman with a lot of baggage and a kid and apparently permanent PMS. He was fine with sleeping with her, sure. The rest of it was something she didn't even want, so why did she care?

"I don't know what you want, Holder."

"Sure you do. I want you," he said, lips covering hers. Yes, she knew that much. Still, she didn't know what else he wanted, still wasn't sure why he'd agreed to any of this.

"What about the job? You might lose it if I go back."

"I land on my feet," he shrugged a little. "I'll make it through whatever comes. I ain't worried."

"You're shaking," she said, grabbing a hold of his hand. He looked down at it, at the trembling in his fingers. "Isn't there something else? Something you take when the cravings get bad?"

"Only cigarettes. And now sex," he added. "Geez, Linden, you smoked. You know what it's like. You replace one addiction with another. I have cigarettes. I use them. I could use alcohol or something else, but what good is that?"

"So... is that what this is to you? You and me, feeding some kind of addiction?"

"That what you think now? That it's just... scratching some damn itch?" he asked, frowning. "I don't know what you're expecting now, girl. Honest. This is about convincing your son, and it's not going to be a short thing, but if you're going to pick fights with me, then it ain't worth crap. You can't get past your issues if you push away even the fake boyfriend. You need to get this stuff out of your system."

She studied him for a moment. His words made her angry, but that wasn't all of it. She didn't understand how he saw so much. He didn't know her. Who was he to make any judgments about her? "What is this, really? Are you trying to fix me, Holder?"

"Can't fix anyone. Can't fix myself," he disagreed. "This isn't about fixing anything. Only thing I know how to fix is meth."

"Thought that was the only thing you knew how to cook."

"That, too. You hungry or something? Thought we just ate."

She had the feeling there was something he wasn't telling her, but she didn't know what. She shrugged, willing to let herself be distracted. "So what if we did? You're always eating."

"Suppose that helps with the cravings, too."

"How long do you think this is going to last?"

Holder looked over at her across the table. Somehow they'd ended up at her diner of choice again. She had driven, so it wasn't much of a surprise. They were bound to end up at one of a few places, and since it wasn't like she had a lot of them left. She kept herself closed off from places as well as people, and this was no different. They weren't even here because anyone was hungry. She was avoiding something—someone, actually.

Funny that the same someone was the one that was sitting across from her. She probably didn't even know that she was trying to avoid him—or she thought she was fooling more than herself by bringing him along. Maybe there was nowhere else to run. At this point, it was hard to say. She was trying to delay going back to his place, back to the bedroom. He wasn't an idiot. He could tell that much.

"What do you mean, Linden?" he asked, We talking about how long we're going to sit here? How long your ex is staying in town? How long you're going to let Jack hang out with him? How long you think it'll take him to figure it out? How long before we know if it worked, if your son can accept a man in your life that's not his father? There's a lot of questions you could be asking."

"How long for this? For us?"

"That a trick question, Linden?" he countered, leaning across the table, almost getting into her face. He couldn't really explain how he felt about it, not without causing her to back off and run, but he knew how to play this. "Ain't no such thing as 'us,' now is there?"

She sighed, not answering right away. Maybe she was thinking this thing could be more, too. He wasn't going to get his hopes up too high just yet. He put his cigarette in the ashtray and took hold of her hand. "How's about I say forever? What you think of that?"

She rolled her eyes, not believing him for a second. He supposed that was for the best. "There is—this, whatever it is. The act that we're putting on for Jack and his father. You said you were my boyfriend. Fake, but still a boyfriend. This is something, whether we like it or not, real or not. This relationship is supposed to be believable, isn't it?"

He frowned. They'd been doing pretty well so far. He thought this was working. Sounded like she didn't, though. "You think it isn't?"

"These things are supposed to be about more than sex, aren't they?"

Holder felt himself smiling a little. "Sure they are. So what is it you want, girl? Turn this into a date, spend a day at the zoo, look at animals and stuff like that? Go for a walk in the park? Watch some chick flick, something like that? No, I know. We should take dance lessons. How 'bout that shit?"

She shook her head, laughing. "The hell do I look like to you?"

"Damn. Another trick question," he began. He licked his lips, considering his words carefully. He had to do this right, or he'd be screwed and this would be over. "You're a fine looking woman, and you're a scary good cop. You're a mother. Good one. Gives a shit, and that's rare. You're smart. Hot. I don't figure you for the holding hands in the park or zoo. Maybe you went there with the kid when he was younger. You like to run, though, don't you? I don't run, so that's out. Let's see... How's about a ferry boat ride? Romantic enough for you?"

"After the Larsen case?"

He thought she was the type to find those things soothing. The water and all. Then again, the Larsen case had really messed things up everywhere, hadn't it? He passed her a cigarette. "Okay, maybe not. You got any ideas? 'Cause I'm still trying for more, but then I'm a guy, and my brain is going back to the sex."

She reached for her coffee. "Sooner or later, I have to talk to Oakes."

"Make it later. You may as well wait until I'm off suspension. Oh, sure, he'd want to give you my job now, but this way we get more uninterrupted time to make this thing between us... solid. True test will be after the kid's dad leaves and you go back to work, right? This way we can figure most of this out before we really have to deal with that stuff."

She nodded, though he could tell that it was a reluctant nod. "Not to make everything about food, but if this was really going to work, wouldn't someone have to cook something every once and a while?"

"We gonna turn ourselves into Martha Stewart now? She ain't my type. You become her, and this whole thing between us is sure as hell over," he warned her. She smiled a little. "Nah. We can try and cook ourselves dinner. I think I have a book or two. There's the internet, too, for recipes. I suppose we'll need to do some shopping, too. Don't think there's much in my fridge or anywhere else."

"You live off takeout, huh?"

"Got 'em all on speed dial," he agreed. "How ambitious we gonna get here? Dinner and desert?"

"I thought we weren't going to turn ourselves into Martha Stewart."

"We're not. But Rachel Ray's kind of cute."

"Why did we say no prepackaged food? I could kill for some Hamburger Helper right about now," Holder grumbled, rummaging under his sink where he had sworn his pans were. Linden leaned back against his counter, watching him with amusement. She alternated between that and admiring his ass. Not a bad view from back here.

"I don't remember," she told him honestly. "Must have been some insanity that came over us when we were flipping through that book of yours."

"Before or after we fooled around on the counter?"

She shrugged. She didn't remember any more than he did, and she thought one of them should have. The dinner thing had been her idea, sort of. He'd actually specified the meal and desert, but she had suggested the cooking thing in the first place. She had always kind of planned on learning more about cooking, wanted to do right by her son, but she never seemed to have the time to do it. She did not know that she'd actually pick up anything in this experiment of theirs, but she was willing to try.

"You thinking about it, Linden? Screwing around on the counter again?"

She shook her head. "No, I'm thinking that we might have to go shopping for pans now, since you can't seem to find the one we need to finish this meal. If we don't burn it first."

Holder looked out from underneath the sink. He frowned at first, and then a slow grin spread over his face. He rose to his feet, crossing over to her. "Now that sounds like we're planning on getting in trouble again. I don't mind. I like trouble, 'specially our kind. Still, we're supposed to be doing something more than that, right?"

"We do whatever feels right to us. Isn't that what you would say? Or is now the time you start talking about Jesus and morality?"

"Depends," Holder began, getting in her face. "You planning on trying to push me away again? Because I got news for you, Linden."

"News?"

He smiled at her, reaching behind his back and taking out the pan. She shook her head at him, and he kissed her as he passed the pan to her. She took it as he moved around her, muttering something about thinking that he had a bottle of some kind of spice somewhere in the apartment. She sighed, moving the pan over to the stove and pouring the bowl into it. She set the burner and started the sauce cooking. She really hoped they weren't going to mess this up because they didn't have anything to fix if they didn't make this work.

Damn it, it was just a meal. The world would not end if they managed to screw it up.

"Catch," Holder called, and she looked up barely in time to see the spice bottle coming at her. She watched as it hit the floor. She bent to pick it up, and he came around the corner, smacking her on the ass. "Thought you had better reflexes than that, girl."

"More warning would be nice. And never smack me on the ass again," she warned, almost smacking him with the bottle herself. He didn't seem worried at all. She hated the way he never seemed to have a trouble in the world. She knew it wasn't true, but he acted like it sometimes. It pissed her off. She preferred the side of him that wasn't quite as full of himself, the one that showed through when he needed a fix or was trying to impress her on the job or when he helped her with her son. "Holder, you know I have a gun. You've made plenty of cracks about my moods. About PMS. Do you really want to see that?"

"I figure I will if this keeps going," he told her. "Face it. You don't scare me. I know how to touch you, know how to make you weak. And you like it when I do."

"Shut up, Holder."

"You love me, Linden."

"You're full of shit," she told him, pushing him away from her before he could start something else. They needed to focus on the cooking, could not afford to get distracted, not right now. If sex was all they had, it was never going to work.

She stopped at the thought, leaning against the counter again. He was She felt a bit sick to her stomach. Since when did whether or not this thing was about sex matter? She wasn't doing this to have a relationship with Holder, not a real one. This was about settling Jack's issues, settling hers, and getting Rick back.

Wasn't it?