DISCLAIMER: I don't own these characters, Fox does. I'm only taking them out for a test drive.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: I was wound up on caffeine. I wanted to try something a little different (at least, for me). This is the result. I hope it's coherent to everyone else.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author

By Sam

God. She's still so beautiful.

"Do her."

Her hair is longer now. Passed her shoulders. It looks like spun gold.

"There wasn't supposed to be anyone here."

"Well, there is, and we need to deal with it."

I can tell she's surprised to see me. That's a good thing. I think.

"Just do her, for Christ sakes! She's a fuckin' cop."

"We don't know that."

"Then what the hell is she doing here at three in the morning?"

That was my question, but my head hurts too much to ask.

"How the fuck should I know?"

The buzzing in my ears is beginning to clear just a bit. Unfortunately, it's making me all the more aware of the blinding pain.

I'm still not quite sure what happened. One minute I was standing in front of a cabinet in the evidence room, the next I was laying flat on my back, staring up into a familiar face.

One I never expected to see again.

"All of you just shut the hell up for a minute!"

That's my girl. She's taking charge. I'm still amazed at how great she looks. I also shouldn't be thinking about that right now.

She looks like she wants to say something. She also looks like she wants to do something. But, judging from her pissed off expression, neither of those options would be pleasant for me.

"Tie her up."

Okay, maybe I'm wrong.

Two big, nasty looking guys are stepping forward. They look a little bit too excited for my liking, but since my body is still trying to remember how it functions, I doubt I'll be putting up much resistance.

I must have the shittiest luck on the face of the earth.

On second thought, maybe she does.

This was supposed to be a clean job. Pete had the dirty cop's balls in a vise, and the guy was all too eager to pay his debt. So, he threw out two words, hoping they'd stick.

Seized property.

Well, who the fuck knew.

And here I am, looking into those eyes again. Pure blue ice.

"We gotta move."

Pete's stupid friend Charlie is practically levitating. Never bring a cokehead for this type of work. They are too friggin' hyper.

And never, ever give them a gun.

"My part's done. Go help the guys. I'll keep an eye on her."

"We should just fuckin' do her."

Not surprisingly, the piece is actually shaking in his hand.

"I didn't sign up for that. Now, give me the gun and go."

I can see him hesitating. Jesus, this guy is wound tight.

"If she moves, pop her."

"Thanks for the tip."

There has got to be something else going on with Charlie tonight. I've known him for a while. He is not the violent type.

I can hear him mutter something under his breath as he leaves. Whatever. The only thing I'm interested in is sitting in a chair behind me.

Wrapped up tight. Just like a present.

Alone, at last.

Body language.

Sara speaks as she moves. The slow turn. The graceful, cat-like strides. Without saying a thing, I can tell what she wants.

First, the kiss.

Hot. Possessive. It makes my body tremble.

Then, the punch.

Hard. Vicious. And just as familiar.

Both are unspoken words of love.

"You look great."

"You looked fucked."

"Maybe later."

"What the hell are you doing here?"

Me? I live here.

"I should ask you the same thing."

"I'm a thief."

"I'm a cop."

"I remember."

I smile at her. She smiles back. I guess I'm not the only one who sees the absurdity of this situation.

She straddles my waist. Gentle fingertips wipe the blood from the corner of my mouth.

"I think I've convinced them not to shoot you."

"Thanks for that."

Our noses are almost touching. Her face is exquisite.

"How did you get in here?"

"Through the roof's ventilation system."

Oh, shit.

It was a simple thing really.

Alarms can be technological wonders. Or a bunch of cans tied with a string and hung over a doorway. Both are equally effective.

I was so consumed with the sophisticated electronics of the building, that I forgot the most basic rule of breaking and entering.

Look up.

"You should be going now."

Billie has a way about her. I can't quite put a label on it.

Cool. Fearless. Sexy.

Perfect. Maybe that's it.

"I guess so."

"SWAT has the building surrounded by now. Every side. Including the top."

I glance down at the floor. Billie's smile is dazzling.

"That's my girl."

I can hear a voice on the bullhorn outside. I can also hear the guys. They're freaking. And running in every direction.

Not me. I'm staying right here. For the next few seconds, at least.

I take Billie's face in my hands. I memorize every little curve and shadow.

She leans in and kisses me. Fiercely.

It's a goodbye kiss.



At the door, she turns. A lazy, sexy smirk on her lips.

It's a good thing my hands are tied.


"Leave the gun."

She pulls it from the back of her jeans without a thought. It slides to a stop near my feet.

I look up. She's gone.

The pain in my head is gone, too. Well, maybe 'replaced' is a better word.

Now, I wait.

I hate sitting here. More than that, I hate the thought of Van and Deaq when they hear about this. They'll be breaking my balls to hell and back.

This might be a good time to let them take the Vanquish for a spin.

I can hear the stormtroopers getting louder, trying to pound their way in. What the hell happened to stealth, anyway?

There's movement to my right, outside my office.

I know it's too soon for the cavalry. And Sara isn't coming back.

Then, I realize.

Excitable boy.


He's there in the doorway. I watch his gaze drop. I follow it.

The gun.

The chair and I go over. I don't know what I think I can do with my hands tied to the back, but I know I won't just sit there and die.

He's on me in a flash. I can feel his hands wrapping around my throat. The sensation of him squeezing my windpipe is excruciating. My satisfaction at having managed to kick the gun away evaporates instantly.

Just like the air I was breathing.

"Fuckin' bitch! I'm gonna fuckin' kill you!!

Of course, I'd like to counter that statement. I really would. But, as the room starts to dim around me, I know he's probably right.

Two shots.

His body jerks, violently. I can feel his grip tightening for a split-second. Then, mercifully, it's gone. Just like that, I can breathe again.

Well, except for this dead weight on my chest.

I lift my head and peer over the crazy, dead guy's shoulder. Sara's standing near the door, the gun already dangling beside her hip.

When our eyes meet, she smiles at me.

I love this woman.

"Why'd you come back?"

She shrugs.

"I lost my ride."

Did I mention that I love this woman?

I hate police cars.

Not that I've been in them much, mind you.

Well, three times, actually.

There's just something so condescending about having steel cuffs slapped on your wrists, and then being 'helped' into the back seat.

Watch your head, the gesture seems to say.

I'm on my way to prison. What they ought to say is 'watch your ass'."

"She's with me."

Billie. Thank God.

"Sorry. I was a little tied up."

I decide the only appropriate response is an eye roll.

"Turn around."

I do. She immediately removes the handcuffs.

"What's going on?"

"Snitches don't take a ride."

Okay, it's official. I'm confused.

"What are you taking about?"

"You tipped me off about the B&E. And you saved my life. You walk. Simple as that."

Huh? "I didn't-"

Her lips are on mine. It's an odd kiss. Less than two seconds.

Like the way my aunt used to greet me.

"Thank you."

She's staring at me, intently. The flashing lights are catching her pale eyes in just the right way.

Like fireworks.

"What about the others?"

"They don't know a thing."

I'm still trying to comprehend this. I'm also staring at her lips. She catches me.

I see that familiar smirk.

"You still need a ride?"

The End

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