He blindly strafed his hand back from the way he was leaned off the opposite side of the single bed, a boot still clipped in his other fingers as he rubbed into her pelvis with a hushing noise. The plaintive and weakened sound she made in her sleep led him on a turn and he let the boot drop, not caring if the sound woke her as his fingers pried her hip closer. Chibs dropped his jaw down along her shoulder, hand breaking reflexively up to catch the way she slapped toward him as she woke.
"Easy, love." He nearly laughed into the fight of her fingers as he clenched her palm closed, her breathing a rapid rush that escalated rather than calmed. "You're just dreaming."
"You're leaving." Her eyes caught along his as he leaned over her, panic playing into the colors in her eyes.
"I gotta go." As often as he said it, at least he had the grace to sound apologetic.
"You keep telling me that." She sighed off into the way he rubbed his forehead along the curve of her shoulder, sinking in the smell of her laundry soap. "Just keep coming back. Safely."
"Giving orders, Lieutenant?" he cocked his head up to watch the film of nightmares slide from her face, replaced by the fuzziness of waking. "I'm not one of your deputies."
"No." she agreed with him quietly, laying her head back as he drew back to the other side, leaning to reach for his boots while her hand braced his spine.
"It's just a vote, darlin'." he cast back in warmth as he tugged his boot on, winking at her as he leaned into the press of her palm. "No trouble."
Ally just turned her head into the pillow they'd shared, hair waved against it as her brow arched, "Don't placate me."
"It's just a vote, Ally." He repeated, nodding into the warning tone she'd given him.
"Better." She nodded as her nails scraped down the fabric of his shirt, her body curling into his back slowly as she dragged her arm up under her head.
"Be good, yeah?" he teased a shy smile over, "Gemma's still downstairs. No scrapping."
"Not one of your brothers, Telford. But I'll take it under consideration."
She'd been paused into waiting and she took advantage of the time, her glance drifting off the windows as he left on the bike. Ally stepped past the obvious stretch of construction work that was rebuilding the structural integrity of a central wall, eyes tripping over a wide doorway before she paused at the pool table, fingers wiping the felted red that had been ripped ragged and torn. Her hand stretched onto the pile of shattered photo frames that had been left in a desolate and dusted pile, smiling into the way the some faces seemed familiar but off in time. A table of time capsules, proof of their solidarity in a sort of rebellious pride.
She felt more than heard Gemma's presence in the very resounding clip of boots behind her, the echo of it vibrating up her sternum as perfume taunted on her.
It was unfair, this match.
She was unprepared and still wearily worn in just jeans and a t-shirt.
She was too emotionally bare and bankrupt to be brawlish.
"Think this is the one you're looking for, Lieutenant." Gemma placed herself intentionally close, riding sidelong to Ally's hip as she dragged a frame from under a few others and brought it closer. "It's a horrible picture of him. Young, though. Younger than I remember him ever being."
"I've seen it." Ally offered lightly as she traced the broken frame.
"I'm sure you have." Gemma nodded a glance over the front of the other woman, eyes tipping down into the way both of Jarry's hands pressed whitened along the edge of the pool table. "Sure you've seen all of them. Did a little background check? Little history?"
"I'm not an idiot." Ally intentionally distanced herself from both the photo and the intentionally intimidating leaning of the other woman's frame, her fingers trailing the table as she stepped around it. "Of course I did."
"His ex wife alone should have warned you off." The verging taunt in the other woman's tone was intentionally placed. "Real IRA? Larkin's got a stone cold heart, Sheriff. You don't worry about that coming back around?"
That hit twisted on her a little.
It was something she generally did her best to ignore.
Not that his daughter's name scrawled across his chest didn't make it an every day reminder.
"From what I can tell, if he'd wanted it back, he could have had it." Ally angled over the pile of debris. "Seems he didn't want it."
"Tiggy told me what you did." Gemma cast over the table as she angled her head on a nod of supposed acceptance. "I should thank you for that."
"Tig wasn't there." Ally shot up quickly, letting her voice whip as tightly as her eyes as she studied the hip cocked way Gemma leaned her weight into the table. "Not in the room."
"You think they don't tell each other everything?" the older woman snorted as she shook her head. "Those boys have relied on only each other for years. He'll always trust them over you. And it doesn't seem likely that you're the type of woman who can accept that."
"What's it like?" Ally cocked up in a blanked glance, jaw lifting into the question, "It must be exhausting… Being Wendy to a pack of perpetual Peter Pans? Their mother, their Mary, their infatuation?"
The older woman slowly let a shake of the head go wide, a feral smile curling patiently onto her lips as she studied the Sheriff. "You're a witty little thing, Lieutenant. And that brain's gonna be nothing but trouble for you and him."
"Scared of losing one of your lost little boys, Mrs Teller?" she asked softly back, intentionally keep her voice neutral. "Or just scared of losing even more control?"
There was a twisting of emotions on the other woman's face, "I don't control them."
"That's an awfully pretty lie to tell yourself." Ally nodded as she caught against the edge of another photo, searching over the face of the other woman's dead husband before shuffling it loudly over the rest of the stack, letting it slide raggedly and clatter in Gemma's direction. "How's it holding up these days?"
The darker of the two just hedged out a laughed breath of cynicism as the jut of her palm stilled the photo of Clay from tripping any farther along. "Damn, bitch."
Ally nodded into a fleeting smile that was nothing of affection. "Wanna go on to round two?"
"Ya know," the older woman lifted her hands as she started stepping away slowly, "I just came over to offer you a cup of coffee and let you know that Chucky can drive you back to the station."
"Along with a healthy dose of Teller intimidation?" Ally spoke after her. "Not in the market."
"Does seem as though you're very off the market, sweetheart." Gemma just gave her a shaded smile as she turned away, something near almost respect swimming in her eyes as she waved toward what was left of a broken down bar. "Coffee's ready."