Sorry for the delay in getting this up, but I wanted to get it right

I know it's very long, but I hope you like it x

x x x x

"Sara."

The sing-songed voice caused the young brunette to freeze, her hands stilling over the keys. She turned slowly towards the bed, where Kirsty was lounging across the pillows in a skimpy negligee, a seductive grin dancing across her lipstick-painted lips.

Sara felt her cheeks flush at the realisation of what was expected of her; she turned back to her screen, pursing her lips tightly.

"I'm kinda busy right now." She said as coolly as she could, clearing her throat around the lump that had suddenly formed there.

The bedsprings twanged as Kirsty's weight shifted and suddenly a pair of hands appeared over Sara's eyes.

"Baby, you've been working all afternoon … come to bed." She crooned, her breath inches from her girlfriend's ear.

The smooth voice made Sara's skin crawl and she tensed involuntarily against the hands that had now moved south and were tenderly massaging the back of her neck.

"I … I just need to finish this off." She insisted weakly, although something told her that her pathetic excuses were not going to wash this time.

Sure enough; Kirsty leant over, her exposed skin brushing against Sara's shoulder, and snapped the laptop shut. As she straightened up, pressing a kiss to the girl's temple, she took her firmly by the hand.

"Come on, you're too stressed." She chastised lightly, tugging Sara to her feet. "And I know just how to make you relax."

Sara threw her head back, reluctantly allowing herself to be dragged towards the bed.

As Kirsty's quick hands undid the buttons on her shirt and pushed the material down her arms, grazing the healed bruises, she tried to ignore the sick feeling spreading through her stomach.

She didn't know how much longer she could do this. It was one thing to continue a doomed relationship with someone you despised; it was another thing entirely to make love to them.

X x x

Wrapping the covers around herself, Kirsty pressed her lips to Sara's and shuffled off the bed with a satisfied grin as she sashayed towards the bathroom.

Sara waited until the sound of running water drifted from behind the closed door before releasing the breath she had been holding. Kirsty hadn't noticed the silent tears staining her pale cheeks, and neither had she seen the look of fear that crossed those dark eyes right before she turned out the light.

Now, grateful to finally be alone in the small room, Sara pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms protectively around them.

She felt like a hooker. Like she was letting herself be used for someone else's twisted pleasure.

She felt cold … numb.

X x x

Sofia barely heard the end of Brass' sentence as her gaze drifted into the nearby break room. Without bothering to explain her departure to the bemused man, she wandered across the hall and quietly entered the room.

It was mid-shift and most officers were out doing their rounds. One, however, was apparently taking a break.

Her back was to the door as she flicked idly through a magazine while waiting for the coffee pot to brew. As Sofia crept closer she could hear the woman humming a little tune to herself.

It turned her stomach to think about what could have possibly put her in such a good mood, but she kept silent, not wanting to make her presence known too soon.

She was barely a foot away from Kirsty's turned back when she finally lunged forwards and slammed one hand deliberately on the cop's wrist, pinning it to the bench.

"What the fuck!"

Kirsty's startled struggling almost overbalanced her; but Sofia held firm, leaning down close to the woman's ear.

"You ought to watch your language." She warned in a low voice. "We wouldn't want anyone to think that you had a temper now, would we?"

Kirsty flashed her eyes up and Sofia resisted the urge to back off at that point, instead tightening her grip.

"What the hell's that supposed to mean?" She barked, straightening up despite her restrained position. She was taller than Sofia recalled.

"I think you know what it means." She hissed. "But perhaps I haven't made myself clear…stay the hell away from Sara."

Kirsty visibly flinched at the words, but when she finally freed her hand and turned around to face Sofia properly, there was nothing but evil behind her cold, hard stare.

"Sara who?" She asked calmly, quirking an eyebrow.

"Don't get smart with me." Sofia retorted bluntly. "I know what you've been doing to her." Kirsty's eyes flashed again, that same dark emotion briefly filling the empty green orbs.

"Oh yeah, and what exactly have I been doing to her?" She challenged. "I mean, other than making her happier than you ever could … in every sense."

Sofia straightened up a little, although she was still no match for the other woman's size, and jutted her chin out stubbornly. She knew it was intended to rile her up, but she couldn't help the instinctive anger that began to bubble in her blood at the implication. How much had Sara told her about their relationship?

"Don't push me Soames." She warned in a low voice. "I have friends in higher places than you."

Kirsty scoffed, shaking her head in almost-gleeful amusement.

"Please, you think I'm scared of you? You're just jealous because I have Sara and you lost her."

"Sara doesn't want you." Sofia shot back angrily. "She's only with you because she's too scared to leave."

Somewhere in the back of her mind, it struck the detective that she could be doing more damage than good right now, but her impulsive defensiveness wouldn't let her stop.

"I don't know what it is that you're holding over her, but I'm going to find out and when I do…"

"What?" Kirsty laughed, throwing her hands out. "What are you going to do, Detective? Are you and the murder squad going to use your little fingerprint brushes to put me away?" She spat callously, backing towards the door but never breaking her unfaltering stare. "You've got nothing, because Sara will never tell you anything."

Sofia's shoulders slumped slightly as she watched the smug woman disappear around the corner.

She was right about one thing; Sara probably wouldn't ever tell her what was going on. But that didn't mean she couldn't get more proof on her own.

She was a detective, after all.

X x x

Catherine Willows thought that, after fifteen years in this job, nothing could shock her.

But when she walked into the locker room that evening her heart damn near stopped in her chest at the sight before her.

Sara was unnaturally still, her gaze unwavering as she stared at the little tub of white pills in her hands.

When Cath opened her mouth to speak she had every intention of sounding calm and rational in order to not scare Sara. Unfortunately, her tongue had other plans.

"Give them to me."

The shaky voice caused Sara to start and she jumped to her feet, clutching the tub protectively to her chest.

Unfortunately, Catherine misconstrued her surprised actions as refusal and inched closer, her outstretched hand visibly trembling.

"Sara, honey." She softened her voice. "It's okay, just give me them."

For a moment, Sara's eyes clouded with confusion at her supervisor's inexplicable panic, until she realised what conclusion she had obviously come to. Glancing down at the pills nestled in her hand, she quickly handed them over.

The relief on Cath's face was evident as her hand closed securely around the pot, but Sara didn't even notice as she dropped back onto the bench and ran a stressed hand through her hair.

"I'm sorry." She whispered tearfully. "I … I wasn't going to…"

"It's okay." Catherine assured her, pocketing the offending items for now and joining her on the bench. "Just tell me what's wrong."

"I can't do it." Sara sniffed. Misunderstanding her answer, Cath reached out and gripped her hand tightly.

"Sara, baby, you have to talk to me." She instructed firmly, but gently. "Have you taken any?"

"No." Sara shook her head, lifting her gaze and repeating her previous sentiments in an unsteady voice. "I can't do it anymore." She whimpered. "With Kirsty, it's too hard."

Catherine's baffled frown deepened as Sara carefully extracted her hand and stood up, walking slowly towards the door.

"Sara…" She called out to her, rising to her feet after a somewhat delayed reaction.

Sara paused in the threshold, turning to her with a helpless look.

"I just can't do it anymore."

Catherine watched her go, a deep-seeded fear settling itself over her still-pounding heart.

Fumbling in her pocket, she extracted the tablets again. They were painkillers.

What kind of pain must Kirsty have inflicted on Sara to drive her to this?

X x x

Sara was so absorbed in her cooking that she didn't hear Kirsty enter until the front door slammed shut.

It wasn't often that she cooked a meal from scratch, but occasionally she found it was a good way to distract herself from her thoughts. And lord knows, she needed that today.

Her grandmother had taught her, and it was one of her recipes that Sara had chosen today; a Sicilian dish with a bit of a twist.

Kind of like their family, her Grams used to say.

After Kirsty's ungraceful entrance, she put down the spoon and leant over the counter to peck her lips in greeting. It was a standard routine for them and one she could live with, for now.

"You've been busy." Kirsty noted, eyeing up the copious amount of food lining the small kitchen. She loved Sara's cooking, when she could persuade the brunette to bother.

"Uh huh" came the standard reply, as Sara continued her familiar dance around the room oblivious to the cold eyes fixated on her back.

Eventually, Kirsty clicked her tongue and moved casually around the kitchen counter to lurk behind her.

"I spoke to Sofia Curtis again today."

"Really?" Sara asked as nonchalantly as she could. She really wasn't in any mood to discuss her ex, not today of all days.

"Yeah, she … uh, she warned me to stay away from you."

Sara stilled, her eyes widening in alarm. She had suspected that Sofia knew something, but she thought she'd made it clear that she had no inclination to discuss the matter with the curious detective.

"She's jealous." Sara shrugged, hoping it would diffuse the situation. "Ignore her."

"Well, it was actually something else she said…"

"Hang on," Sara turned, still brandishing a ladle as she narrowed her eyes in thought. "It's Thursday?"

"Yeah?" Kirsty quirked an eyebrow, somewhat peturbed at being interrupted.

"You don't work Thursdays anymore – that's when your counselling sessions are."

And just like that, the tables had turned. Kirsty's accusatory expression morphed into one of guilt and she bowed her head shamefully.

"Kirsty," Sara pressed softly. "You are still seeing a counsellor, right?"

"I tried." She threw her shoulders up weakly. "It just wasn't working for me." She took a step closer, her arms outstretched. Shrugging off the embrace, Sara wasn't going to let this drop so easily, despite her precarious position trapped against the cabinets.

"You promised me that you were still going."

"Yeah, well…"

"You lied to me." Sara cut her off bitterly.

"No, I …"

"When did you last go?" Sara challenged, turning off the cooker and resting her back against the counter. If you'd asked her later where this sudden courage had come from she probably wouldn't have been able to tell you; but something in her had broken today.

Perhaps it was the look in Catherine's eyes when she'd found her staring at those pills. Perhaps it was the pills themselves, or what they represented.

"Tell me." She pressed. "When did you last speak to a counsellor?"

"Three months ago." Kirsty admitted quietly. "Look, you don't understand." She darted forwards, grabbing Sara's wrists. "Those people, they were making me feel crazy! They were looking at me like I was some sort of freak!"

"They were there to help you!" Sara countered, attempting to pull her arms free and nearly knocking over the pans in the process.

"I'm not crazy Sara!" She insisted desperately. "I'm not, I don't need them. All I need to get through this is you!"

"Yeah, well. You're going to have to find a new way to fight your demons." Sara snapped, finally freeing herself and sliding around the woman towards the door.

Kirsty, however, was not going to let that happen in a hurry. Nobody walked away from her like this.

As the red mist descended, she whirled with a familiar manic look in her green eyes.

The first hit, unexpected and blunt, brought Sara to her knees but she quickly rose again using the kitchen cabinets to pull herself back up.

"You can't leave me!" Kirsty wailed, continuing her assault. "You can't do this!"

The blows, raining hard and fast against Sara's shoulders and back, were not enough to deter her this time and she made an unexpected burst towards the door.

"No! Sara, you can't…!" Kirsty grabbed her roughly by the arm and attempted to yank her backwards, but this time the younger woman put up more of a fight and managed to wrench herself free. The resulting force led to them both falling in opposite directions; Sara into the wall and Kirsty against the couch.

Seeing her opportunity, Sara snatched her keys from the kitchen counter and bolted to the door. Yet Kirsty was still quicker and, grabbing the nearest thing within her reach, she launched it towards the door.

The glass shattered inches from Sara's head as her hand barely grazed the door handle.

She stared hard at the tiny fragments sparking on the ground at her feet. She couldn't help but compare it to their relationship. Once so beautiful and delicate, now shattered and broken in pieces around her.

Kirsty was on her feet again by now, her chest heaving with every breath. Her hand twitched, her eyes flicking temptingly towards the hot pans still bubbling on the cooker.

"You know what," Sara mumbled, her voice filled with an emptiness that scared them both. "I can't do this anymore."

Without waiting for a response, she opened the door and slipped out, leaving the enraged woman alone.

In the uneasy silence that settled around her, Kirsty released an angry roar, swinging around and landing a boot-clad foot squarely on the coffee table. It tipped over, careening upside down across the rug.

Her blood was boiling with rage. How dare Sara walk away from her? Nobody just walks away from her.

Picking up something else, she hurled it at the far wall. It smashed, falling in pieces onto the bed.

The sound of things smashing gave her some small amount of satisfaction and she moved to the desk, wiping everything off in one sweep. Trinkets and journals scattered across the floor in a flurry of paperwork.

CDs and books were thrown off the book case. Glasses and plates were ripped from the cupboards onto the floor.

The pan, now cooled to a gentle simmer on the stove, ended up halfway across the bathroom.

You could practically see the steam rising from her skin, she was so mad.

Her breath coming out in sharp, grunted gasps; her whole body shaking, she stood in the middle of the apartment and surveyed the damage she'd inflicted. Sara's home, everything she owned, was trashed.

Scanning the small space, her green eyes latched onto one item in particular that had thus far avoided her wrath.

Sara's guitar.

Her favourite item in the world.

With slow, calculated strides over the broken ornaments, Kirsty crouched down and ran her hand across the case. Sliding the zip open, she lifted it out carefully, stroking the instrument as if it were a delicate animal.

She had watched Sara play it before, when they were first dating. She always seemed happy when she was playing it, lost in some faraway land where there was no fighting and no pain.

It struck Kirsty that she hadn't seen Sara look happy in a long time. Too long.

Casting her eyes over the guitar in her arms again, she gripped the top of the neck and swung it high above her head, taking a deep breath before bringing it crashing down against the hard floor.

Turquoise wood splintered, cracking along the seams of the instrument. Lifting it again, she repeated the motion over and over again until she was left holding nothing but the headstock.

Dropping the remains, she ran a hand through her thick, tangled hair.

Slowly, the extent of what she had just done began to sink in and she fell back against the chair behind her, using it to hold her trembling body up.

Sara would hate her for this. She would never forgive her...

How had her life turned out like this?

Emitting a growl of frustration, she kicked out at the empty guitar case lying at her feet.

As the case tumbled away from her, something hard fell out of it and skittered across the floor.

Kirsty froze, raising an eyebrow curiously at the phone which came to a gentle stop at her feet.