Under the Grey (L/K)

[jambled]

Under the Grey
Playlist: You’ve Been Loved by Joseph Arthur :: Silver Girl by Patrick Park :: Your heart is an Empty Room by Death Cab for Cutie :: Let it Die by Feist
Disclaimer: Obviously not mine. Storyline and ex-lover angst is claimer, though.
Rated: There's some themes in here kids might not handle; too soppy lol. Read at your own risk.


The truth was, he couldn’t stop thinking about her. Snowflake eyes that changed from blue to grey, depending on the weather and her mood. Pale, perfect skin. He’d always been enthralled with the stretch from the swell of her breasts to the smooth sleekness of her stomach; that long, sloping space that he would lay his head on, post coital. When they’d be locked in the afterglow, her slender fingers curling through his hair, his arms spread out over her, one lying along her legs. Legs that went on longer than he’d thought possible; the pants she wore were cut well, but didn’t lend themselves to the vision he’d been presented with when they’d come off. Those deceptively long legs.

She’d been almost shy the first time she’d undressed in front of him; different than the lawyers and receptionists he’d bedded since who had flaunted their bodies in front of him, needing his eyes on them, the knowledge their gym-pumped and sauna perfected bodies were turning him on. None of them realised he was imagining them as a pale nymph, ethereal in her lightness, almost transparent in the muted light of his apartment.

Ever since he’d first seen her, standing in the sunlight outside Philly PD, he’d wanted to claim her. Her hair was messy in the breeze, the cardboard coffee cup in her hand lazily letting steam off into the chilly morning. Her suit was grey, her shirt white. He still remembered pausing to look at her, so still amongst the scurrying foot traffic, while she waited there in shades of grey. Then she turned when someone called out. Her jacket flapped and the lining was hot pink, effervescent on her sombre appearance. That had been what had sealed the deal; he wanted to get to know the woman underneath the grey.

He still wasn’t sure he’d known her, not completely. He’d known what it had felt like to have those legs wrapped around him, what if felt like to hold her to him, her thin frame warming his front, what it felt like to feel her soft lips under his, her sweet tongue sliding into his mouth. But that was all physical; the scent of her, the feel of her. He hadn’t heard her history, why she decided homicide was the place for her, why she never talked about her family. He’d been left to imagine what might have happened between her and her sister, why she had pictures of dead people on her bedroom walls, why she pulled away from him when he talked about a future with the two of them in it together. She was, as he’d realised too late, an enigma, so unlike any other woman he’d dated. She seemed to resent the casualness of their relationship, but when it became too comfortable and close, she’d backed away. She’d been shy at first in the bedroom, letting him lead. After a while, the wildcat, the pink in her coat had appeared, and he’d thought he might be getting to her. Instead, she’d started to get to him.

Their first kiss was as perfect as he’d imagined; a little cautious, a little new. He’d wanted to kiss her that night as soon as he’d put his hand on her waist, moved her away from the street side of the pavement, let his palm linger. Even through her coat he’d felt the fineness of her figure, had wanted to be able to feel it without clothes on. She’d nearly managed to evade him, but he’d captured her, put his briefcase down on the soft snow, leant in to lips that were carefully parted, breathing a warmth into him that was welcome on the snowy night.

Now he was lying above sheets in a room that hadn’t dreamed of being as cold as he’d been that Philly night. He was in a city where it never snowed, but he could never feel as warm as when he’d been in the snow with her then.

[jambled]

Rolling onto his side, pulling a pillow over to mask the fact that the double bed held only him, he wondered what she was doing now. Whether she was deep in dreams, kept warm by the disabled cats that had always made an appearance in the bed when they woke up in the morning. Or if there was someone else in her bed; the partner she had, who’d instantly disliked him, maybe some other lucky bastard who’d managed to get to her, who had been sucked under her spell.

Sighing, realising he wasn’t going to get any more sleep for the night, Kite released the pillow and lay onto his back before pulling himself into a sitting position. Four in the morning and the street outside his apartment was quiet, the car sounds from a few blocks over the only noise that infiltrated the stillness. Padding out to the kitchen in boxers and bare feet, Kite pulled a carton of juice out of the ‘fridge and had a long drink. His new job was just as stressful as the old; still pandering to pressures from politicians, police bureaucracy, victim’s families who had gone too long without ‘justice’; whatever that was anymore, he wasn’t sure he knew. Truth was, he’d moved here to get away from here. He’d thought he could handle it; just another break up, that he’d initiated. But instead, seeing her had become awkward, not only because they were now no more than mutual strangers who had seen each other naked but because every time he caught a glimpse of her somewhere in PPD, every time he saw her in her dark clothes, her hair still messy, still carelessly uptwisted he wanted her back. He wanted to be able to call her at night, just to hear her breathe, wanted to feel comfortable walking into her bedroom, hanging his jacket on her bed, knowing he would be waking up with her and the cats. He wanted it back so much that it hurt him to see her. To see the image presented to the world, and to know that the underneath, the hot pink, was something he’d managed to get a glimpse into and consequently throw away because he hadn’t been able to accept any less than all of her. These days, he’d be happy to have half of her; he’d let her hold her secrets and deal them out to him slowly so that he could hold them as close to him as she did to her, so that they could share looks across the room. So that she’d smile that irrepressible smile at him, the one that he never failed to smile back to. So that he could walk her home in the snow every night, no matter how late it was. They’d share their day, kiss on the corner, interlock arms to share warmth. And he’d let her have her guarded history, and her absent family and her pictures on the wall if he could have all that.


Sorry for all discrepancies of time line, place, etc etc. I’m not American. I barely know the geography of my own country. Besides, people, this is fanfic. Give us some room to move, don’t kill the artist yada yada yada. This is only my third fanfic... Be kind, I'm still a newby at this!

[Naj]

Hi jambled,


I don't write fan fiction or know how to go about it but I thought it was good.

[tiger_lilly]

OMG I love it!!! When I first clicked on this topic I thought "I'll read it later" but then I started reading the first 2 lines and I was HOOKED! The funny thing is I pictured Scotty as the one who was thinking this for a long time. But about halfway through I was like "what? Who is this?" and then "aaaah!" . It didn't make it any worse for me though, and I like the way you imagined his feelings for her; oh so bitter sweet. Great story Jambled .

Edit: I just realized that you put (L/K) in the subject field...duh, how blind I am?

[jambled]

Hey tiger_lilly, thanks for the lovely comment! Glad you were hooked on the first few lines; every author wants their reader to need to read more- that's how they sell books! (either that or a lot of corporate marketing, but it's just so much cheaper to be talented lol. Not saying I am... My head isn't that big! Just saying... Ok...) Anyway, here's chapter 2... Enjoy!

Under the Grey II
Spoilers: Anything before Beautiful Little Fool.
Disclaimer: Obviously not.

All day he’d been absent minded. In a meeting, his paralegal had asked him the same question four times before he could formulate the answer everyone had wanted to hear. He knew it wasn’t just the lack of sleep, it was his continuous ruminations of her. He’d thought about her in the few years since his departure, wondering how she was, who she was with, if she’d managed to find anyone that made her stop looking so hard for answers for the dead. Selfishly, he hoped she was still the same, still pristine and alone.

He’d managed to move away without looking back, managed to tell her he didn’t regret it in their last conversation. Truth was, he didn’t regret the relationship. He regretted sitting across from her and looking into tear-darkening eyes and finalising things between them. He’d felt bitter then, the events of the night before still heavy in his mind. She’d given him up over a random who left his wife and family to show up at her door at one in the morning. Her eyes were grey when he sat down and looked at her, absorbed her apology; blue with unshed tears when he left her sitting at the table. He’d held her pale, cold fingertips and, avoiding her eyes so he didn’t fall into the crystalline depths of them, told her he didn’t want to live like that. He didn’t want to have the small part of her that wasn’t married to the job then; hadn’t known he’d miss so much the part he was giving up.

Tripping up the stairs after a day that had started to early and ended too late even reminded him of her; the way she’d leave in the morning before him, the way he’d practically have to steal her away at night. He fumbled the key in the lock, wondering what she was doing, if she was still out somewhere in the dark.
He paused as he came through the door. Surely she hadn’t hijacked his reality as well as his dreaming world; he was sure he could hear her voice. It sounded slightly blurred, as if she’d consumed too much alcohol.

[jambled]

Kite crossed over to his answering machine and listened. It was the first time he’d heard her talk since he left, other than several frantic calls he’d made to her after news of her showdown with George Marks. A few sleepless nights had passed; which was when his memories of Lil had started to settle and sear in his mind, until she left a short message on his answering machine that she was fine, and she appreciated his concern. She’d been polite and distant; back to grey with him. He’d kept the message, regardless, and replayed it whenever he felt like hearing her voice.

Tonight’s message was different; even with the alcohol impeding her tone, he could hear the helplessness in it, the lack of control.

There was a sharp intake of breath, and the sudden dial tone telling him that she’d hung up. Kite swore, dialled her number as fast as she could. It rang out to her voice mail so he dialled again. The third time he called back, her service operator gave him the computer-generated message that the person he was trying to call was unavailable. Kite swore again, threw the phone down, ran a hand through his hair. She’d called him, on the very day when he could think of nothing else. She’d been vulnerable, on the edge of tears, pledging change. If this was fate, it was dealing a cruel hand. Three aces and a lonely two of hearts.
He pressed the button on his answering machine and it purred to life, the start of her message that he’d missed coming out of small speakers.

“Kite. Lilly Rush.” As if he’d forget who she was. “Well, you’re working late, I bet. Look, I wanna say something, and… I know the ship has sailed with us, so that’s not why I’m calling. I, uh… I’m just going to say it. Look, I know it’s on me how we ended things.” He wasn’t sure whose version of events she was running on. It had been the middle-of-the-night guy that had disturbed him, but he could… should have accepted her apology. “I got flipped out. I just… I just want to not end up like my Mom, you know.” Until now, she hadn’t breathed a word about her mother other than telling him she wasn’t into family Christmases. He’d been making plans, back then, to invite her to his parents house, show her off to them. “But I don’t want to end up like this, either. So I’m done.” For a moment, his stomach sank down to rest with his toes. He entertained images from the case he’d overseen for an ADA today; a woman suicided in her office, one of few witnesses in a rape case from her childhood years ago. “I’m done with having to walk home alone.” His stomach realigned in the correct part of his body, and he breathed a little easier. “She can do it, but I can’t. I can change-.” It was at that point he’d broken into her self-deprecating soliloquy and prompted her to, probably, flip out again. At the very least to flip her phone closed and firmly shut him out.
Kite sat down in the chair at his desk, rubbed his eyes, stretched out so he was sitting back. He was suddenly so weary, so sick of it all. He’d taken this job with hopes of furthering his career; but to what end? At least Lilly was helping people. She was finally giving people a little bit of closure. All Kite was doing these days, it seemed, was chase his own tail. Sure, he got the bad ones put away but only until they won an appeal, which was eventual. The only reason district attorneys seemed to exist these days was so that mayors and other politically ambitious individuals could figurehead him as a damper on the ever growing crime statistics. And he hated to admit it, but he’d grown tired of victims. Of their endless questions, their quietly hopeful eyes, their clinging hands. These days, he didn’t want to go to work, but there was no fun staying at home in an empty apartment.

Kite dialled Lilly’s home number, knowing she wouldn’t be there yet, ready to leave his own answering machine message. Her voice on the recording was brighter, less hazy than the one she’d left him. He waited until the beep, imagining her cats in the dark apartment. Even with one eye, Olivia had always managed to make it look evil. His presence in the house usually meant the cats were relegated to the lounge room.

“Lilly, it’s Kite. Give me a call when you get this. I’m…” He didn’t want to say concerned, didn’t want to act like a father figure towards her. He knew she’d find it patronising, and even harder to call him back. He knew he’d witnessed a tiny chink in her armour, a slip of the control she clung to so fiercely. Knew her pride would reappear, keep her from calling if she thought there was any pity in his tone.

“I’m here on my own, too. I’ll be up most of tonight… ‘Night.” He slowly put the receiver down, resisting the urge to try and call her back again, try and get her on the phone while she was still feeling vulnerable so he could convince her he would be happy to be with her, even if she didn’t want to change once there was no alcohol in her system.

Kite turned up the ring on his phone and carried it with him while he reheated some old pizza and washed up. He made his shower quick, and cleaned his teeth with the intention of spitting at any minute if the phone was to ring. It remained painfully mute and, as he crawled into bed and switched the light out, the silent phone beside him, he closed his eyes to imagine her. Blonde, grey and so sadly fallen from the fuchsia he liked to remember.



So this is still Kite. Some people have told me they’d like a Lilly perspective and I think I’ll put that next chapter. I’ve only recently watched Beautiful Little Fool, and I wanted to tie this fic in to that timeline, and to use the drunk dial constructively! Obviously Joseph has never happened, and there may be liberties taken later with an alternative story line. Let me know what you think!

[tiger_lilly]

Very good! I don't know if you're aware how many people have wanted some closure to that phonecall? ;D. It's nice to get something now . Good idea with a Lilly perspective - can't wait!

[rabi]

Don't usually come over here but when I saw the word ''L/K'', then I had to read it!! ;D
Wow! Original, but yet seems a likely consequence (or rather I'm just crazily hoping for it to happen. ) and totally in character. Neat.
And yes, I feel much better now seeing some closure to that drunken call.
Love how you described POV from his side.
Looking forward more to come soon, please.

One problem. As some parts show funny character, I had to guess words / sentences to read through.
Don't know if it's happening only to me?
Is there elsewhere I can read the story?

[jambled]

Hey Rabi;probably word conversion to the forum; sometimes the coding doesn't like it. This fic is over at www.fanfiction.net/~jambled under the same name. Thanks for the review!

[rabi]

Hey I wasn't aware of that site. Looks like there are lots of interesting stories.
Thanks for the link!

*grinning rabi goes to the site for new chapter ;D*

[michelle]

Jambled, OMG, the imagery is FANTASTIC!

[jambled]

Thanks so much Michelle! That really means a lot... One day I'd love to be an author (I'll probably only get around to it in my retirement which is probably 40+ years off lol) so that is sooo good to hear! Anyway, here's chapter three for anyone who hasn't been to fanfic.net to read it there! This one is in Lil's POV... Let me know if you think she's who you imagine her to be; characterisation can be tricky!

Lilly snapped the phone shut. What the hell was she doing? She and Kite were over, and if she was going to start making life changes, she didn’t have to inform her of her move. Like he’d want to listen. Like he’d care.
“Crap.” Lilly leant against the wall for a minute, her eyes closed. The sudden sobriety made her head spin; nothing like drinking on an empty stomach then having it evaporate at the surprise of hearing a voice on the other end of the line. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, putting the glass on the ground with the remaining alcohol left in it. Her cell rang in her hand and she jumped, nearly sending it clattering down the cold cement steps. She looked at the screen, saw Kite’s name flashing in bold. Shoving the phone deep in her pocket, Lilly moved out of the car park. She was sure her mother had already told Jackie that she’d come down with a sudden stomach bug. Ellen had always been good at making up stories. Remember when you broke a jaw?
Lilly pulled her phone out of her pocket, ready to turn it off, but it rang again. She cursed any key answer as she waited for it to stop ringing. As soon as it did, she switched it off, knowing she couldn’t answer his questions now, couldn’t tell him what he wanted to hear; that she was fine. He’d always overstepped her boundaries, invited himself further into her life than she’d wanted him. She didn’t need him asking her about her mother and why she hadn’t mentioned her before. The subject had come up once, briefly, when they were still together. They’d been lying in bed together, quietly contemplating their own thoughts, gently breathing on each other’s skin. He’d asked her why she didn’t have any family pictures out, why she only had pictures of people she didn’t know. She’d felt his voice rumble through her, had ached to answer the question with reasons; her mother had never really been a mother and her sister was a train wreck who’d slept with her ex-fiancé three months before the wedding. But too many years of carefully kept boundaries had made her turn, look up into his eyes, tell him they were never a family of photographers. Then they’d made love; the easiest way to stop him asking questions, before they’d walked to work, his arm heavy on her shoulders.
Now they were miles apart, and sex wasn’t going to shut him up this time. Lilly flicked some hair out of her eyes, walked down a short cut side street. She didn’t owe him anything; he’d ended it, and she’d heard that he was happy in his new job, and supposed he was probably seeing other people. She doubted he’d given her a thought since the night she’d come home to find a message on her answering machine from him. It was after George, after she’d been talked at all day; by Stillman, by the department psychologist, by the internal shooting squad… She’d given them all the answers they’d wanted to hear and had avoided her other colleagues’ eyes, aware they were all waiting for her to crack; with a break down, the way to handle her would be clearly defined. They’d close ranks, offer her sympathy, give her time off and filing duties. Instead, she’d stayed together, kept her thoughts away from how good it had felt to kill that man, to kill his evil intent, and his destruction but most of all his link to little Lilly. Ignoring protocol, she’d pulled her own 49 after he’d mentioned it; hadn’t trusted Scotty or Vera not to do a little sleuthing of their own, only to find out she hadn’t been a virgin since she was ten because of a dark night and a mother who couldn’t get her own alcohol.
She’d come home after all that, her 49 tucked safely in her bag, to a message asking her if she was okay, if she’d been hurt at all, how she was feeling. Just hearing his voice, the familiar tone, had started the trickle of tears that she couldn’t stem until the next morning. She’d neglected the message, deleted it with the same pride that, she remembered, always came before a fall. Three days later, she’d opened up her 49 and reread the interview notes, to convince herself that she didn’t need him, or anyone. That little Lilly was a long time ago and that she’d survived just fine. She’d called him back at a time she knew he’d be at work and left a short message, telling him she’d appreciated the call and that she was okay.
Lilly passed a take away shop and the smell of chinese beckoned her inside. She had considered the thought that they might be able to make it through dinner; that her mother might not act like herself for once. Instead, she’d acted as expected, and Lilly had come away from the dinner hungry and with the same nonexistent faith that there would ever be much of a relationship between her mother and herself.
After ordering, Lilly walked back out into the cool air outside. Her head was clearing more each minute, and she was left with the question of why she’d needed to justify herself against her mother to anyone; and why to Kite? He’d only known as much as she’d let him; if there was anyone who would have known what she was talking about, it was Ray. He’d seen where she’d come from, would know what she’d have meant without her having to explain anything else. Instead, she’d left a mess of words on Kite’s machine, opening herself up to his endless questions. If he chose to ask them. If his new girlfriend didn’t just delete her off there, annoyed at her intrusion into their domestic bliss.
Lilly’s order number was called and she got her noodle box and kept walking. She wondered if her mother had unwittingly intruded upon her drunk dialling decision; she’d never liked Ray, especially since he’d stolen Lilly and, more importantly had taken away the wage she’d made from a waitressing job that her mother had spent on alcohol. I want better for you. Like her mother could suddenly expect more just because she’d found a man she could pretend to be well adjusted with. She wondered whether she was trying to prove something; that Kite wasn’t too good for her. That she could hold onto the good, or could grasp at it at least, clutching the thin threads of what they’d had. That reaching out in the dark, over distance, through alcohol drunk for the wrong reasons, past him not wanting to live in the shadow of her job… That somehow, she was justifying her life. Look, Mom, I called the good one. Somehow, even though her mother would probably never know, it made her feel better.
She could only stomach half the noodles before she put them in a trash can, filled almost to overflowing on a corner. They’d had a meet and greet with the alcohol in her stomach, and she could feel the vague stirrings of nausea starting. All she needed was a hangover tomorrow, confirming her colleague’s suspicions; that if you wanted to crack Lilly Rush, it wasn’t a sadistic serial killer you needed, it was her mother.
Under the next streetlight she checked her watch. She was only fifteen minutes from home, from the safety of her apartment where there were no pictures of her mother, no reminders of Kite, nothing but the safeness of the darkness and her cats.

[michelle]

She wondered whether she was trying to prove something; that Kite wasn’t too good for her. That she could hold onto the good, or could grasp at it at least, clutching the thin threads of what they’d had. That reaching out in the dark, over distance, through alcohol drunk for the wrong reasons, past him not wanting to live in the shadow of her job… That somehow, she was justifying her life. Look, Mom, I called the good one.

Incredibly insightful! That is exactly Lilly.

[jambled]

Thanks Mich!

Chapter 4:

The next morning, he woke suddenly, his eyes flitting to the phone. It hadn’t breached his sleep, his dreams of Lilly in the snow, standing in front of a trash can, hair smelling like vanilla and lips soft beneath his.
He wandered out to the machine, checked it. Nothing new. He replayed Lilly’s last message as he waited for his toast. She still sounded sad, drunk, lonely. He buttered his toast, listened to the message again, debated about calling her. After a few moments of hovering his finger over the talk button, he put the phone down without making the connection. He’d wait her out for a day.
Kite replayed the message one more time before he finished his toast and started getting ready for work.

Lilly had noticed the blinking light on the machine when she got home. Even as a child, she wasn’t the type of person to pick up Christmas presents to feel them and suppose what was inside. Not that there were many Christmas presents at the Rush household, but the few that had been there had always been touched by Chris, shaken until their mother had yelled at her to leave them alone. Lilly didn’t live her life on a knife edge of expectation. Her curiosity wasn’t overdeveloped, and it was because of this that she tripped past the blinking light without pressing the play button, kicking her shoes off as she went. It did briefly occur to her that it might have been Kite, but whatever he said, whatever words of pity he offered, she couldn’t stomach them along with the noodles and booze.
The next morning, it was still blinking. Lilly paused as she poured her coffee, looked over it as she put out dry biscuits for the cats and finally reached over to let the machine tell her just how much of a fool she’d made of herself. She’d taken two Panadol before she went to sleep, but could still feel the faint threadings of a headache tingling along her skull.
His voice still sounded familiar, and she shut her eyes as she listened to the message, trying to gauge his emotions through the impersonally digitised sound.
“Lilly, it’s Kite. Give me a call when you get this. I’m… I’m here on my own, too. I’ll be up most of tonight… ‘Night.” She opened her eyes when the tape clicked off, furrowed her eyebrows. He sounded as if he might actually care, as if he might want her to call him back rather than leaving the opening out of politeness.
I’m… I’m here on my own too. She took that to mean that he was lonely too.
“Must be between girlfriends. Between the Julie’s of the world.” Lil reached down to address Olivia, scratched her head. She left the message on the machine; she’d call him back tonight, if she remembered.

When Kite got home, his answering machine still held only her two saved messages. He replayed them both, hoping she’d call in the meantime. That he’d pick up and they’d talk. He’d find the words to tell her he was an idiot, and that he was considering a job back in Philly. She’d tell him she was glad he was coming back and that she missed him. They’d live happily ever after.
The phone didn’t ring while he was entertaining thoughts of walking her home every night, being able to permanently hang his coat next to hers. Letting himself in with his own key, and being able to stare her cats down because he had a place in her life, and her house as well. Sighing, Kite decided to call her; after he had a shower. He needed time to run through the conversation several times in his head. Lilly wasn’t the type of person to address unprepared.

Lilly reached up over her head, felt her back crack, slender backbone realigning. She ran a hand through her hair on the way down, felt the length of it. She needed a trim, but she hadn’t found the time. Work, as always, was hectic. She knew it didn’t have to be this busy, but it wasn’t like she had anything else to fill her time with. Besides, work was safe. It didn’t leave itself open to drunken phone calls or emotional attachment.
“Lil, want a ride home?” Scotty was swinging his jacket from the back of his chair, making sure he had his car keys. Lil briefly shut her eyes, considered the nine block walk home, nodded.
“Sure, Scotty.” She loosely wrapped her scarf, shut the files on her desk. It was late, and they were the only two left in the room. The air conditioning unit was clicking on and off, and their footsteps fell into time with it as they walked to the lift.
“Tomorrow, you want to try inputting the last of the files into the computer?” They’d just wrapped up a case, and nothing new had come in. Somehow they’d cleared the backlog, and were now digitising all evidence and other data from the old cases into the current computer system, seeing if any similar hits came up, or whether there were any DNA matches to current perps.
“Sure. Hopefully we’ll get a hit on something.” The last fifty or so cases they’d input hadn’t gleaned anything; no MO matches, no DNA matches. If no info came through from outside, and no new hits came up they’d be twiddling their thumbs by the end of the week.
Lilly’s cell rang just as Scotty started the car. She dug it out, looked at the display.
“Crap.” She held it in her lap, concentrating on the screen, ready to turn it off when it stopped ringing. At Scotty’s sideways glance, Lil shrugged a little, put the silent phone back in her bag. Sometimes, he was a little too nosy. She could still remember him looking past him when she was talking to Ray in Interview 1; as if they’d been getting it on in there. Ray had told her, too, that he’d surreptitiously tried to get info out of him about what happened after the Harley ride. He was her partner, and she didn’t shut him out completely, but there were things he didn’t need to know. Like the fact that she’d called Kite after downing too many straight drinks. And that, for some unknown reason, he’d been persistent in calling her back.
“Think Vera’s still living at the motel?” Scotty changed the subject after a long silence, and Lilly shrugged again. She knew for a fact Vera was at the motel; he’d called her from there to interpret a letter Julie had sent him, figuring that, as he put it, ‘a girl’s perspective might get this to make some kinda sense.’
“Thanks for the ride.” With a small sigh of relief that question hour was over, Lil gathered her bag, slid out of the car, waved as Scotty drove off. The streetlight near her apartment still wasn’t working, despite the fact that she’d called the council days ago. Her tax dollars, working hard.
The phone was ringing as she was unlocking the door, and she let it go to the machine as she struggled to get the key out of the lock. It had been sticking in there, and she’d been meaning to call a locksmith but, like her hair, it had been neglected.
“Rush, it’s Kite. Listen,… I just need you to call me back. Let me know you’re okay. Talk to me…” There was an exhalation, as if he was building up to saying something. Lilly dropped her bag on the counter, leaned over the machine.
“Miss you, Lil. Call me.” He hung up quickly after the quickly uttered last sentence. Not that Lilly had any intention of picking up; eventually he would stop calling. She knew his persistence had a point where it would wear thin, break. It had broken already, but he must have built up another layer since they’d parted. She wondered if it was as weak as the last one.
She did wonder at the name he used for her, though. He always called her Rush, or, on rare occasion, Lilly. Even though her colleagues all called her Lil, he would only shorten her name when they were in bed; caress it in a moan that sent shivers through her.
Lil kept the machine on and checked the cats had food before she went to shower. She gave Lindsay a quick call before she went to bed; they’d been trying to organise a girls’ night out around both of their busy schedules, and so far they figured they could squeeze in a Friday night in a month’s time. Unexpected emergencies permitting, of course.
Making a mental note to call the locksmith on Saturday, and to see if her hairdresser was willing to make a Sunday appointment, Lilly crawled into bed. She rolled onto her side and looked out the window. Hopefully, tomorrow would be a good day; possibility of a new case, more time for Kite to get over her mistake of a phone call, and a chance to relax at tomorrow night’s first Thursday.


So I realise this didn’t advance the plot a whole bunch. Yes. I know. Really. But I wanted to start bringing Lilly and Kite together before… Well, I don’t want to give it away, but next chapter will (hopefully) have plot advancement. Don’t lose interest just yet! As always, please review!

[tiger_lilly]

I really like it. The scene in the car with Scotty is great. Can't wait to see what happens next .

[michelle]

Jambled, you may not have had much plot advancement but your character development is great! As a matter of personal opinion, I'm always more interested in the characters and what is going on with them internally than what is happening in the world outside them. Granted, you do need both, but I don't feel as if this segment slowed things down at all (IMO).

[jambled]

Thanks guys! Chap 5...

Even with the introduction of technology to the law; fax machines, high speed internet and email, there was still the need for paper hard copies to be exchanged. Whomever claimed the computer would lead to a paper free office hadn’t realised the print button would be so easy to press. Kite had three inches of files on his desk, a headache he’d woken up with despite actually getting enough sleep for once, and a phone that was still irritatingly silent. He’d called her, bitten the bullet, voiced his feelings. And, damnit, he did miss her. It would be so much easier if he didn’t; he knew there was a lawyer downtown who always showed up at the same bar as him, a tall brunette with chocolate coloured eyes. They’d struck up a conversation once or twice, and he’d debated starting something with her but even a casual relationship would have felt somehow wrong. With the way work was at the moment, though, he needed someone that was as much a workaholic as he needed to be to get everything done. He had his boss in one ear, telling him to clear the backlog, and his assistant DA’s, complaining that they were already putting in too many hours. Rubbing his eyes and spinning around to look out the window, Kite didn’t hear his paralegal walk in.
“So, I’ve got a request from Masters that you might not be jumping for joy about.” Kite spun back around, leant forward at his desk. Jeremy was standing in front of the desk, arms crossed, suit already wrinkled though it wasn’t far past eight am.
“Hm.” Right now, he didn’t think today could get much worse. Apparently, he’d been wrong. Anything coming from his boss was bad news at the moment. Re-election time was just around the corner, and everyone was on edge and more demanding than usual.
“He needs you to pass those off,” Jeremy motioned towards the files on the desk before continuing, “and get back to Philly as soon as you can. They’ve had a disastrous run with their DA’s and, since they’re up a few murder trials there and there’s nothing absolutely life threatening here, they need someone who knows the job to step in for a week or so until they can get a permanent replacement.” Immediately Kite thought of a hundred reasons why it wasn’t feasible for him to go back to Philly; he was acting DA here, they could appoint an ADA from Philly who needed the contacts, he couldn’t just drop all his cases into the laps of his ADAs. Of course, this was political and nothing in politics was logical or practicable. And, his mind persisted with a clear thought that overrode his best protestations; Philadelphia was where Lilly was and he’d be back in a building a few blocks away from her.
“Right.” Nodding, Kite sighed, thought of the flight and the climate change. “I’ll book a ticket for after lunchtime, gives me enough time to sort these out.” Jeremy looked almost surprised at his immediate agreement but nodded, left. Resisting the urge to turn and contemplate the view again, think of what he’d say to her when he saw her, Kite instead picked up the phone and started calling around, offloading his cases.

The day had started off well; the air was a perfect crispness, hinting at winter but still firmly anchored in autumn. Lilly had found a grey scarf she thought she’d lost winters ago, and she was having a remarkably good hair day. The phone call from Kite was still in the back of her mind. Miss you, Lil. She mulled over it as she walked to the office, finally decided he was just being nice, taking some responsibility for the call she’d placed to him. Although it was her fault, he was the one that had ended things.
She’d stopped to get everyone coffee on the way in to the office and was feeling the effect of her Triple Americano by the time she stepped through the cage on the third floor. Gun checked and coffees distributed, she’d started inputting data again. Two hours after that, Scotty looked up from his computer and smiled.
“We got something.” There was almost a sigh of collective relief as they gathered around him, looked at the details.
“Bar tender murdered in ’82. Fingerprints were found at the scene, and we gotta hit.” Scotty pointed to the highlighted window on his screen.
“Roland Markes. Prior for domestic violence on his wife, Wendy. Address listed in North Philly for the past ten years.” Jefferies read out the details.
“Everyone that was at the bar that night was interviewed. And it says Wendy Markes was on the list of those interviewed.” Lilly had picked up the file, finished just as Stillman came to see what the huddle was about. Scotty filled him in.
“Sounds like something. Vera, you and Jeffries want to go find Mr Markes? Lil, you and Scotty track down Wendy, see what she’s got to tell us. If the charges weren’t dropped on the prior, chances are they aren’t still together.” Scotty started a search for Wendy, came up with an address.
“Now living in Roxborough.” Scotty scrawled it on a piece of paper as Lil raised an eyebrow.
“Someone’s moved up in the world.”

Seven hours later, Roland was in custody for a murder and they were all patting themselves on the back. Quickest murder arrest they’d made, and it was all thanks to the new computer network; something Stillman was still marvelling at. Once Roland knew they had the prints on him, he’d cracked, admitted to it all. His ex-wife had been seeing the vic and he hadn’t been able to handle the thought of them together.
“You right with that paperwork, Lil?” Stillman was grabbing his coat as Lilly nodded. She only had to fill in the last of Roland’s statement and sign off.
“See you at Jones.” Vera filed out soon after, never too slow when a drink was on offer. Jefferies had already left, and Scotty was picking up his coat as Lil closed the file and put it in an envelope to be taken to the DA the next morning; whomever that was. Ever since Kite had left, and Jefferies had taken out Danner, they’d had a bad run of DA’s. Cage had left after only a few months with ‘personal difficulties’ and since then they’d been running through them at a rate of roughly one a month.
“Guess the first round should be on Stillman, for letting them talk him into getting us linked up to the new computer system.” Lil nodded at Scotty’s statement as they both holstered their guns before waiting at the lift.
“Yeah, even if he doesn’t know how to work it.” Scotty pressed the button for the ground floor after they got in, smiled at Lil. It was still an office joke; the only time Stillman had offered to use the computer, he’d not even known how to tell it was on.
“Good arrest today.”
“Guy was ready to crack. Living with the guilt for that long. Probably did his wife a favour; she might have been living with the bar tender.”
“Instead, she gets a doctor, moves to a fancy neighbourhood. Almost makes you feel sorry for him; all that to get his wife back, and she ends up in a nine bedroom house.”
“You’re not forgetting the domestic violence, are you? Broken cheekbone, three fractured fingers… Not to mention she probably wore sunglasses for a few weeks until the swelling on her eyes went down.” Lilly gave Scotty a look as she pushed open the door, wrapping her scarf around her neck in response to the bitingly cold air that met them immediately.
“Right.” Scotty nodded, acknowledged his defeat, stopped as well to adjust his jacket.
“I thought it was meant to be getting warmer.” He complained as he shoved his hands deep in his pockets, watched Lil put her gloves on. She smiled, gave her arms a brisk rub. Scotty didn’t know how she survived the cold; she didn’t exactly have any body fat to keep her warm. Even with several layers on she still looked slender enough to break.
“You right to go?” Scotty snapped his eyes back up from examining her figure, hoping she couldn’t see the slow spreading blush in the half light. Truth was, lately he’d been noticing her more than usual. After George and the woods, he’d felt something about her shift and change, and he’d responded to it accordingly. It wasn’t just her hair, the way she showed up one day with it down around her face, impossibly blonde. It was more the way she carried herself now; less like just a detective and more like a woman. And to his discernment, he’d found a feeling that he was sure was jealousy stirring when she rode off with the guy on the Harley. The same feeling had been reawakened when they’d holed up in the interview room together, and he’d been relieved when Stillman had asked after her, giving him an excuse to knock on the door, break up whatever they were doing.
“Yeah.” Scotty followed her as she stepped out of the light pooling from the lobby, into the dark street.

The plane ride had seemed impossibly long, even though it was only a few hours. He’d flipped through the complimentary magazine several times before giving up on the trashy celebrity news in favour of looking out the window at the clouds and trying to ignore how cramped his legs were. There was a kid sitting next to him who decided to play twenty questions. Kite answered nearly all of them before shutting him up with a coin trick and a joke so he could get back to the clouds. It felt like relief not to think for a while, although he could only manage for a few seconds before her image flitted back into his mind. That morning, at least, he hadn’t had time to even consider her with all the placating he’d had to do when offloading all his cases. The ones that wouldn’t make court he’d brought with him to wrap up here; if he got a chance. Jeremy had been dropping hints that he was walking into a war zone; an office that hadn’t been run properly since he was there a few years ago. With the appeasing and worrying about how much slack he’d have to pick up when he got to Philadelphia, thoughts of Lilly had been buried. Now, however, they were back. It wasn’t so much her as it was her reaction if he just showed up; he knew she didn’t do so well with surprises. Kite knew that him appearing suddenly in Philadelphia was definitely going to surprise her, and he wasn’t sure it would be a good surprise. He was hoping so, but too many unanswered calls was convincing him otherwise. And now, like fate, she was almost to the other side of the street, but on the same block as him, sharing the same air. For the first time in almost two years, they were back in the same city. He wasn’t sure it was her at first; the hair was much longer, let loose to fall around her shoulders in a straight, silken sheet. The Lilly he’d known had been overly reluctant to let her hair down. But there was something too familiar about the way she moved, and he was pretty sure that was her partner walking beside her, looking like he was checking out her arse as they crossed the street. Kite pushed through the door, ignoring the cold air that swirled around his neck; his scarf was still in his hands, and he had no intention of stopping to put it on in case he lost sight of her. Briefcase and scarf held tightly, Kite gave the road a cursory glance each way before jogging across, closing the gap.

[tiger_lilly]

This is fantastic! I LOVE that Scotty has an interest in her other than work. "...checking out her arse..." LOL! I would love some triangle drama

[michelle]

OK-I'm holding my breath and cringing and hopeful. . . Please, please tell me she's not going to drop everything and run back to him after the way he left her!!! But on the other hand-oh your romance scenes between the two of them are wonderful . . !

[jambled]

“Rush.” On his call she paused, took a moment to turn. He wasn’t close enough to gauge the initial reaction, before she replaced it with an impenetrable look; the same look she’d worn on the several, awkward occasions they’d seen each other after the break up. Even with a neutral expression, she was almost beautiful enough to make him turn away. Her hair was out; longer than he’d ever seen it, and an impossibly light blonde. She was wearing that coat, with a grey scarf that made her eyes look the same colour. The cold air had brought out a pink blush on her cheekbones, and most of her lipstick had worn off during the day, giving her lips only the barest tinge of red. She crossed her arms in front of her, but didn’t look away from his eyes.
“Hey.” Kite didn’t even offer a glance to her partner, but he noted that the guy had stopped as well, probably ready to step in as his role as protector, tell Kite to beat it. He knew, too, that Lil would hate that.
“You didn’t tell me you were in Philly.” Her voice held the barest chill under the overly polite tone, and Kite wondered how much time it would take to re-thaw her.
“You wouldn’t answer your phone.” There was a flicker of amusement in her eyes before she looked at the ground. Blonde hair readjusted itself, swinging into her eyes, Impatiently, she tucked it back before turning to look at her partner.
“I’ll meet you at Jones, Scotty.” Kite could almost feel the waves of resentment coming from the guy as he gave Kite a brief glower, eyes hidden under deep brows.
“If you’re late, you’ll miss out on Stillman’s shout.” Kite could read between the lines, and he almost rolled his eyes at the direct dig; don’t spend too long with him.
“Okay. I’ll be there soon.” Lilly waited, looking over her shoulder, until she thought he’d be out of earshot. Obviously they were still only partners, then. Kite felt relief, attached a grin to his face as she looked back at him warily. There was a silence between them, and Kite realised she wasn’t going to continue the conversation easily, lost the smile a little.
“I got called back to pick up the slack here for a while. Just flew in this afternoon.” Lily nodded noncommittally, shuffled her feet on the icy pavement.
“I’ve been trying to call you.” Kite left the statement open, decided to wait it out. Then again, she was always better at holding the silence than he was. On their brief few walks to her home together, he’d chattered incessantly while she’d offered an amusing comment here, a vague statement there.
“I know. I was going to call you tonight if it wasn’t too late when I got in.” She shrugged a little, tucked her hair back again.
“Hot squad meeting again? Is that still what you guys are calling yourselves?” He felt rewarded when she offered him a slight smile, nodded.
“Among other weird names that lawyers just don’t seem to understand.” The smile widened as she made fun of him, and Kite took the jibe. Anything to get her smiling at him again.
“So, I guess lawyers still aren’t welcome.” He’d tried to invite himself there once, but she’d been against it; had told him it was only for cops.
“No.” The answer was short, but was softened by the faint smile that still lingered on her lips.
“Any rule against lawyers walking you to the bar?”
“I guess that could be acceptable.” Lilly let him take the curb side and they walked together in another silence, this one less stilted than the last few. He could almost imagine that they were still together, on their way to her house. He caught a brief strain of her perfume on the night air, tried to inhale it silently. She always smelt like white flowers; like jasmine and lilies. He’d always tried to surreptitiously look for a bottle when he was there; he’d never smelt that scent on a woman before. He’d never been successful, though, and before he knew it, he hadn’t had the chance to look anymore.
“So how’s work?” He decided to hover on a safe subject, keep her talking just so he could hear her voice. It was smooth tonight, silken, with no hint of the blurred emotion that his answering machine had reported to him.
“You know, the same. We got an arrest today, so it’s probably going to be more… Cheerful at the tavern than usual.” He could hear the smile in her voice, though her face was pointed down, watching where she stepped.
“You wear your hair down now?” Kite phrased it like a question, but he knew she’d pick up that it was a statement; a voice to his surprise to see her with longer hair left to caress her shoulders.
“Everyone needs a change once in a while.” Her answer was light, the flippancy of her statement betrayed only by the underlying emotion in her voice as she spoke the words.
“I like it.” Lil snuck a quick look up at him, a coy smile playing around her lips. He’d found that one of the most endearing things about her; she was always gorgeously bashful about accepting compliments.
“Here we are.” Lilly paused outside an unassuming pub. Laughter burst through the glass doors from inside, and Lil looked towards the lit space within. Before she could walk off, feeling a rare surge of courage, Kite snagged her sleeve.
“Look, I know we broke up. I broke up with you. But it was a mistake. I… I was wrong, okay? Two years, and I still can’t stop thinking about you. Then your phonecall-.”
“That was…” Lilly shook her head, her eyes searching the brick wall behind Kite for an answer.
“I wasn’t thinking clearly.” Then her eyes were on him once more, the fathomless depths of them inviting him to sink into them.
“Rush, I still love you, damnit.” He hadn’t wanted to just come out and say it; had wanted to assess her first, the danger he’d be putting his heart in if he invested himself in her again. But he had to find the Lil she was, the Lilly he wanted to share the rest of his life with. The one with the reluctant emotions, the overabundance of dedication to her job, the laughter that was slow to come but impossible not to laugh with, the tendency to mother animals who were already damaged. Polite chit chat wasn’t going to bring her back to him; last time he’d needed persistence, and a perfect first kiss. This time, there wasn’t enough time for persistence, and their first kiss had been and gone. As perfect as it was, it was history between them; a memory that wouldn’t leave him alone.
“Say something.” She’d remained, mute, motionless, while he’d turned back towards the brick wall, mentally berating himself. Ready to mentally celebrate if his gamble paid off.
“Lil…” Kite reached a tentative hand out, brushed the hair back from her face. Her eyes flicked from his jacket, up to meet his and he almost held his breath, poised for a response. It was more than likely he’d just get her to flip out again, run with her heart intact, leaving his once again alone.
“I wondered. Why you kept calling me. Why you didn’t just give up, like you did last time.” Kite looked at the ground; he’d deserved that. Then again, she’d stayed outside talking to the guy for longer than the time allowed for politeness.
“You’re not the easiest person to love, you know.” Lilly looked away from him, bit her lip. He sensed her withdrawing, raced to keep her with him.
“But I do anyway.” He reached a hand out, slowly, tentatively. It brushed her cheek, softly twisted a strand of hair.
“I have to go in.” Lilly motioned to the door, moved back from his hand. He sighed, nodded, watched as she entered the raucous room. As she crossed the floor, she glanced back once, her eyes catching his briefly before she was swallowed up by the crowd.
Kite smiled, winding his scarf in his hands. It wasn’t their first kiss, but the look she’d given him when she’d turned before walking to the bar… All was not lost.

I have no idea where Kite took his new job. The lovely, lovely Pealee offered me the suggestion of Pittsburgh and that's what I'm going with.
As to Lilly’s reaction… She doesn’t seem like an ‘oh my god’, freaking-out type girl. More like a low-key player, trying to hold it together. Let me know what you think.