Candyland & Fairy Tales

©2005 MaddyLA27

Part 3  

 

This follows Part 2 – and won't make sense unless you read that first!

 

All the disclaimers still hold – wish the characters were mine but (sigh) they aren't! They belong to Stu Seagall, USA Networks etc etc. NO infringement intended, this is just for enjoyment! …Also, uh – this gets a little R rated at a few points – be warned!

 

“Lance! Lorenzo! In my office now!”

 

Rita looked across the desk at Chris and grinned at the sound of Cap's voice. Ten minutes into a Monday morning and Cap had already started in. So much for daydreaming. “You ready, Lorenzo?”

 

Chris grimaced at her in response. “Does he always have to be so cranky? We're the best he's got, doesn't that earn us some reprieve?”

 

Rita clicked off the screen of her laptop and waited for Chris to get up. “I think he loves us, personally. What do they call it, tough love?”

 

Chris smiled and followed her into the Cap's office, shutting the door behind them. Captain Harry Lipshitz was busy sorting vitamins into little piles for the day and never even looked up from his desk as they walked in. “Damn, no more Shark oil tablets left.” The Cap massaged his throat, testing it for signs of impending illness. “Oh Frannie knew that and I told her I still had plenty. Now what? She'll want to come in and bring them. What now?” He looked pained.

 

Chris grinned at Rita. “I dunno, Cap. Sounds like you might have to fess up that you were wrong and tell Franny to bring them in. Can't have you going without your shark tablets.”

 

The Cap scowled at Chris. “I don't need your help Lorenzo. Unless you want to distract Frannie when she comes in? Maybe take her to lunch?”

 

Chris shook his head. “Can't Cap. I have a lot of work to do today. You wouldn't want me to let my personal life get in the way of fighting crime, now would you?” He tried to be serious, but the mischievous smile gave him away.

 

Rita held back a laugh and tried to ignore the warmth spreading within her at Chris's playful mood this morning. She didn't know why his moods affected her so much, but she was so damned glad he wasn't acting all dark and brooding - the way he had been over the last few weeks. She had missed her partner so much. Their day horsing around in the sun yesterday had left them not only tanned and tired, but had eased some of the tension. By the time he had walked her home and kissed her forehead goodnight, she had finally felt hope again that things would go back to normal.

 

Chris caught her gaze and held it, still smiling, and that warmth flushed all the way to her toes. She felt the heat rise to her face as she took in how gorgeous he really was. She had tried to ignore it for so long, but the intensity of that smile knocked her socks off. No wonder she had spent the last few years unable to count the trail of women left by the wayside of that grin. Her eyes focused on his lips and desire ripped through her. She remembered his mouth hot on her skin less than forty-eight hours before, the way his hand had slid into her hair and pulled her towards him, his mouth lowering towards…

 

“Lance? Hello Lance? Would you like us to come back when you are ready?” The Cap was staring at her.

 

She tore her gaze from Chris and tried to focus on Cap. What was happening to her? This attraction was getting ridiculous.  It was Chris, for god's sake. She had no right to think about her partner that way. She cleared her throat. “Sorry. The sun yesterday must have gotten to me.”

 

Cap was looking at her strangely. “Yeah? Well how about you join us here so we might actually be able to solve a case?” He tried to scowl at her again but she just smiled.

 

“Sure thing Cap. We're waiting on Brodie to contact me and still trying to piece together how Chloe met him originally.”

 

The captain's face softened for a brief second. “Did he hurt you?”

 

Rita's hand absently touched her bruise. “No Cap. I'm fine.”

 

“She's not fine,” Chris muttered and slunk down into his chair, looking down.

 

Rita shot him a glance. “Yes I am. It's just a bruise, you two!” She noticed the conspiratorial look the Cap and Chris shared. “If this were Chris, you'd be congratulating him on taking the hit so well! Why am I any different?”

 

Chris chuckled at her indignant response. “Only you would fight for your right to take a punch.”

 

“Well, I have as much a right as you do.” She smiled and he just shook his head.

 

Cap tried to act exasperated by the banter, though he was relieved to see them joking again after all these weeks. “Will you two please concentrate on this case? Where are we at? Donovan will be in here soon and he is going to want to know what you two jokers have scrounged up.”

 

“We're working on it Cap. Brodie is suspect numero uno on this one.” Chris finally straightened in his chair and paid attention.

 

Rita took the hint. “Yeah Cap. And I think Brodie will call the cell we have set up under Samantha Machado. After Chris barged in there, Brodie seemed pissed. And he won't let anyone get away with showing him up. He'll probably try to come after me to tick Chris off.”

 

Cap was finally appeased and began sorting his pills again. “Alright you two.” Rita and Chris glanced at each other, trying to gauge whether they had been dismissed. The Cap looked up when they didn't move. “You two have all day to sit here? Should I order you some tea and biscuits to go with your little break here? Go! Go!”

 

Rita laughed at the familiar order coming from the Cap as they left. “You want to go brief Vice, Chris?”

 

He nodded, knowing they needed to update the vice team as to the intel they had gathered at the party. He wanted to go straight to Beauregard with the info, in the hopes that he could then get Vice to hold off on busting Candyland wide open until after Rita and he had nailed Brodie. Cap had assured them Homicide had priority, but Vice also wasn't known for their adherence to rules. “Yeah, I'll talk to Danny. I'm sure he'll give us the space, but maybe they can offer some surveillance help.”

 

“I'll go over to Chloe's apartment again and see if I can't dig…”

 

“No,” he cut her off.

 

Rita was confused. “What do you mean, no?”

 

His expression had clouded. “I don't want you over there alone.”

 

“You don't want me over there alone. Great. So now what? This is my job, Sam. I can take care of myself. I have a gun remember? And you know what? I think I might even remember how to use it.” She grinned.

 

“I'll go with you.” He looked mutinous, daring her to say no.

 

 She nearly argued with him, but their conversation from yesterday played through her head again and she relented. She had promised to understand what he was going through and how the fear was eating at him. Fighting with him now was not going to help him feel comfortable again.

 

Her eyes softened. “Ok. I could use the company.”

 

He looked surprised for a second before the relief visibly took over. He grabbed her around the waist and smiled. “I might even buy you lunch if you play your cards right, Sammy.”

 

“A real lunch? In a real restaurant?” Her eyebrows lifted in surprise.

 

“Sure, we can go anywhere you want under five bucks.”

 

Rita laughed. “Sam. McDonalds does not necessarily qualify as a restaurant. And even there some of the Super Value meals are over five bucks!”

 

Chris grinned, still holding onto her. “Well, order carefully then.”

 

She slapped his chest and laughed. “No wonder you don't have dates anymore. Do you treat all your women this well? I told you that smile would only take you so far before you actually had to learn some charm.”

 

“You mean just smiling does work a little bit?” He was grinning broadly and looking awfully proud of himself.

 

“You are truly impossible.”

 

“Well – does it work on you?” He smiled again for effect.

 

Her breath caught at the question. She knew he was just playing, but the truth of the answer unsettled her. She pushed out of his arms. “In your dreams, Sam.”

 

He saw her mood change as she went back to her desk, avoiding him. He stood still for a minute, trying to gauge her reaction. In your dreams, she had said. Yeah, she didn't know how right she was. He blew out a deep breath. “I'll go talk to Danny and meet you back here in fifteen, ok?”

 

She nodded, never looking up from the paperwork on her desk. “Gotcha.”

 

He wanted to say something else, but couldn't find the words. This rollercoaster with her was getting to be too much.

 

Something had to give. And soon.

 

He pushed through the palm tree doors, letting them swing wildly behind him.

 

+ + +

 

It was after four when her cell linked to a line under the name of Samantha Machado finally rang. Chloe's house hadn't turned up anything new, and both she and Chris were frustrated with the lack of clues. Brodie was their only real hope of uncovering Chloe's involvement, and until now he hadn't made contact.

 

Chris sat across from her, waiting for her to answer. She shook her head and let it go to voicemail. “You're not answering?”

 

“Not yet. Have to play hard to get.” The phone stopped ringing. She picked it up to check the Caller ID and sure enough it was blocked. It had to be Brodie.

 

He nodded. He hated this part. He hated that he knew what came next. She would set up a date with Brodie and he would have to sit outside and hear the whole thing over the wire. Brodie would be able to touch her, hold her hand, and be alone with her. And while Chris knew Rita would never let anything go too far, he still would much rather have just grabbed Brodie and beat the crap out of him until he confessed versus going through this whole charade. “Just don't let him actually get you,” Chris mumbled.

 

She looked up, meanwhile dialing the voicemail number for the phone from her office phone. “What? Did you say something?”

 

He shook his head as the sound of her voice came over the speakerphone as the voicemail greeting played back. Within seconds, it changed and Brodie's voice came on.

 

“Hello cherie. This is Hunter. Your number was easy to find, sweetheart. I feel badly that the other evening ended so abruptly and would like the pleasure of making it up to you. Say, tonight at 8? Ma Maison? I'll see you there unless I hear from you. Should you need a driver, just call. 486-5517. Je vous verrai bientôt.”  The phone clicked off.

 

Chris was scowling. “What the hell was that at the end? Did he sneeze?”

 

Rita laughed. “No, he thinks he's French.”

 

“Yeah. I have some French I would use to describe him too.”

 

Rita pulled up Ma Maison's website on her computer screen. “Well, it's definitely a nice restaurant.”

 

“You're wearing a wire, Sam.”

 

She nodded. “I know.”

 

“You gonna call him back?”

 

“In a while Sam! You can't call a guy back right away. They lose interest. You have to drag it out.”

 

Chris's amusement showed. “Why don't you head home and get some rest and I will meet you at your house around 7 to get the wire hooked up?”

 

Rita shut her computer off and gave Chris a grateful look. “Thanks partner. I'll call Brodie on the way home.”

 

Chris just grunted in response as she left.

 

+ + +

 

 

“Oh no. No way.” Chris shook his head as he walked into her apartment that night.

She looked confused. “What?” She closed the door behind him and crossed her arms.

 

He raked his gaze over her and dropped the bag with the wire in it on her couch. “That dress. No.”

 

“What do you mean no?”

 

“Sam. That dress. No.” She was not wearing that out with Brodie. He couldn't tear his eyes off of her. She had straightened her hair, so it fell around her shoulders, and the dress was some outrageous tiny black mini dress that fit her like a corset around the waist and then flared around her legs, offering up a terrific view of her tanned legs and her chest. Combined with those black shoes from the other night, she would stop traffic. Literally. And she smelled so damned good. He took a deep breath and willed himself not to reach for her. She looked tiny and dangerous and he wanted nothing more than to push her against the wall and slide his hands up those legs as he tasted…

 

She was looking at him strangely. “Chris. What's your problem?”

 

“Sammy.” He seemed pained. “That dress is, it's…”

 

She was impatient by now. “It's what?”

 

“It's…” His eyes darkened, feral intent written all over his face as he looked at her.

 

Rita knew in that instant. Her eyes flew to his and she actually shook under the intensity of his stare. “Chris.” Her lips parted as the air around them was suddenly filled with energy so palpable she thought she could touch it. Heat flooded her, the need to touch him suddenly overwhelming. She finally knew what they meant by spontaneous combustion. She felt like she was on fire just by the look he was giving her. Rita stood there, rooted to the spot, desperate for him to do something to ease the racing of her heart and the ache that washed over her.

 

He was moving towards her, never breaking eye contact and there was nothing that she wanted to do to stop it. He stopped in front of her, his finger sliding over her nose and then pausing on her lips, rubbing them softly. One hand slid around her waist and pulled her up against him, while the other trailed her face, then down her neck, finally sliding over the top of her breasts. She was trembling, frozen to the spot and unable to do anything but watch him. He was so focused, his desire so blatant that a small sound escaped her. She couldn't breathe.

 

Chris was just slowly skimming his fingers over her and watching himself do it as if he were tracing lazy patterns on her skin. His thumb brushed over the top of her breast before his hand slid lower, cupping her briefly through the satin before settling farther down along her waist. “Sammy, I don't want him to see you like this. I don't want him to think about you like this.” Chris's voice was so low and gravelly she could barely hear him. His mouth was moving towards hers.

 

She lifted her face to meet him, desire driving every movement. “Like what,” she whispered, knowing she was playing with fire, but helpless to stop it.

 

His lips finally settled on hers, coaxing her mouth open and she moaned, trying to deepen the contact. His hands gripped her waist and she tilted her head, wrapping her arms around his shoulders as he lifted her. His mouth nipped at hers, moving softly and deliberately until the frustration built to the point where she slid her hands into his hair to anchor his head so she could get better access to his incredible mouth. He tasted her lips, sucking and nibbling on them until she cried out again, pressing her body against him as close as possible.

 

He pulled her towards the counter and propped her up, his now free hands cupping her face and his fingers rubbing her jaw. Her skirt had hiked up, and he noticed this too. He backed up from the counter and slowly began running his fingers over the taut lines of her legs, as if he were memorizing her. He looked at her for a second, seeing her need match his and began sliding his hands up the inside of her legs, so slowly and methodically that she made another sound, one that sounded shockingly like a whimper.

 

“Chris,” she pleaded.

 

He tried to focus on her through the haze threatening to engulf him. “Yeah, sunshine?”

 

“I want you so much it hurts.” She sounded scared. Terrified. She was looking for an answer.

 

His breath caught and his head snapped up at the admission. “Sammy, I know we promised not to do this. I'll stop if you want, but …”

 

Her fingers touched his lips. “I can't stop thinking about this. About having you this way.” She whispered.

 

That stilled him. He had never expected it was the same for her. The knowledge that she wanted him just as badly shook him. “I used to be able to control it. To remember why I couldn't touch you. But lately…” He stopped, her lips grabbing his attention again. He leaned in and kissed her. “I can't control it Sammy. I want to be inside of you.”

 

She shivered at the raw blatancy of his words, her eyes locked on his. “Chris. Please. I don't want you to stop anymore.” She was still pulling him closer, her hands sliding up the muscled wall of his stomach through his shirt.

 

“You sure?” He had to be certain it was what she wanted too or he would ruin everything between them.

 

A small cry broke from her and she nodded. “Yeah. Yeah I'm sure. I can't keep thinking about you like this. I can't concentrate. Maybe if…” her voice broke off and she looked down at the counter.

 

“Maybe if what?” he said slowly. He suddenly felt uneasy.

 

She mustered up the courage to say what she had been thinking. “Maybe if we get this out of our system, then…”

 

His anger was instantaneous. “Then what? So we just screw and hope this goes away so everything can go back to normal? Friends?”

 

Rita didn't understand why he was so angry. “Yeah. Maybe then everything can be the way it was.”

 

She saw the muscle jump in his jaw. “So you think it's just what? That we both haven't been with anyone else in awhile? That's what this is? A little curiosity about what it might be like?” His voice was rising.

 

“Come on Chris. Don't get upset. I don't know what this is! I just know it has to stop somehow and maybe if…!”

 

“And you think it's just some physical kink to work out of our system.”

 

Chris was furious and she didn't know why. She didn't know what she had said wrong. “I told you I don't know! I – don't – know! You've been my friend for years, Sam! Yes, I was always attracted to you – but it wasn't like it's been these last few weeks.”

 

“And what's it been like, Sammy?” he said quietly.

 

Her heart sank. She couldn't tell him. Rita looked right into those blue eyes and knew she couldn't tell him. What was she supposed to say? That she ached for him? That she missed him when he wasn't near? That at night she wished he was there, lying next to her so she could curl into him as she slept? That she had hated herself even months ago for being jealous of Jillian?

 

She was scared, which made her angry now too. He didn't need to push so hard when she didn't have answers. Why couldn't he just let it be and take what she was offering at face value?  “Chris, let it go. Forget what I said. I have to get ready to leave anyway.” She tried to hop off the counter, but he stood in her way, his hands still resting on her knees.

 

“You have an hour. Plenty of time to tell me.” His voice was hard, his expression unflinching.

 

The fear bubbled up, sharp and swift. She hated being pushed like this. How she felt wasn't anyone's business but her own. “Move Chris.” She shoved at his chest but he didn't budge. She needed space desperately. “Move!” She hit his chest. “I said move!” Her voice cracked as she panicked, trying to get away. She reached up with both hands to push at him, feeling dangerously out of control.

 

“Come on Sammy. Look me in the eye and tell me this would be a one night stand for you. Go ahead. I dare you.” His voice was so low and even that is scared her. And he still wasn't moving out of her way.

 

Rita hated herself now too for the tears that started. She had never been the emotional wreck she had been lately. “I told you I didn't know. It just can't be more than that. You know that.” She still couldn't meet his gaze. “Why are you doing this? Why can't you just move?” She shoved hard with both hands.

 

He grabbed her hands midair and held them. “You can't run, Sammy. You're not the only one who is scared of this. But you can't lie about it either. This could never be a one-night stand. Not the way we feel about each other.”

 

“We're friends, Chris. Friends. Even if we had sex. And don't talk to me about running. You're the one who can't even be my partner, or be honest about why in the first place. So don't go lecturing me about lying!” She tried to pull her wrists away from him, but he held still. “Let go!”

 

She was right. He had been running from his own fears. The fear of losing her in the line of duty. And she had already told him in no uncertain terms that she was going to do everything in her power to get him through it. And now she was running from anything emotional and he would be damned if he was going to let her run away too. “Friends don't make love, Rita.”

 

She cried then, her body fully shaking. She slumped over and finally let the heartache take over. “It would just be sex, Chris. Don't make it more than that. Just forget it anyway.” She dropped her face and let the sobs come.

 

Chris pulled her against him. “You're not ready Sammy.” His hand smoothed her hair as her face was muffled against him. “It would never be just sex. We've both wanted it too long for it to be a one-night stand.” He was trying to be gentle now, stepping back to look her in the eye. “You wouldn't be able to forget it when we were done either. Neither of us would. That I can promise you.” He lifted her chin and smiled at her.

 

“I don't want anything to change between us.” She said softly.

 

“It already has. But you assume change is bad because that's all you've seen.”

 

“It can't be more than I am offering.” She couldn't give more than she had and yet she still wanted him. Her body had still not relaxed, still hoping for the promise of Chris. Somehow everything that was right in her world seemed wrapped up in one person. The one person she didn't want to ruin anything with.

 

She saw him steel himself. “Then I won't take you up on it.” He kissed her forehead again. “I won't let you shut me out before we even start something here that could be really good.”

 

She was mad again. It wasn't enough for him. He wanted more, even when she knew he couldn't give it. She hopped off the counter now, the anger taking over. “ It's ok for you to shut me out when it's work, when you want to stop being my partner? I told you I would be understanding about it until you were truly ready to make a decision about our partnership. Why can't you be understanding now about what I need?”

 

He whistled softly. “Sammy, I appreciate your patience with that. And I'll be patient with you too. I can wait as long as it takes.”

 

She didn't want his patience or for him to think he was going to wear her down on this. “For what? What will you be waiting for? You've had plenty of one-night stands, Chris? Why all the morality now?”

 

She had made him mad too. “This isn't about morality Rita. And you know it.”

 

“Yeah, cause you wouldn't have a leg to stand on then, would you? You've slept with half of Palm Beach.” She started to walk away from him then, knowing deep down she had gone too far.

 

But then some side of her that didn't have an ounce of self-preservation made her spin again to face him. “So what's the deal, Chris? This isn't about me, is it? You can't handle it. Me? I'm fine. You want a one night stand. Great, let's go for it. And when it's done, it's done. No big deal. We finally get it out of our system. Then we forget about it and move on.”

 

He was furious with Rita. Ten minutes ago he wanted to devour her, and now he wanted to shake her. Her little tough girl act wasn't going to work with him. He knew how scared she was of loving anything and losing. Emotional risk for her was never an option. He reached over and grabbed her arm, hauling her up against him until his mouth was against her ear. “You think so, Sammy? You think you'd just forget it after we made love?” he whispered dangerously. “Cause I don't think I would be ready to stop until my name was the only one you'd ever scream again.” He let go of her abruptly and her eyes flew to his. He could tell she was shaken.

 

“Leave me alone, Chris. Just leave me alone.”

 

“You'd like that, wouldn't you Rita? To be alone your whole life? No risk of losing anyone.”

 

“Shut up Chris.”

 

He laughed then and shook his head. “I'll be quiet, but maybe you should take the time to listen to yourself. You're not willing to risk our friendship for the sake of finding something more, but you're willing to risk it for a one-night stand?”

 

She had had enough. “Let's just forget it, ok? All of it. I need to get ready. Did you bring the wire?”

 

“Ha! Nice job on the avoidance Sammy.”

 

She glared at him. “Did-you-bring-the-wire?”

 

His gaze narrowed. “Yeah. I did.”

 

“Good. I'm going to go finished getting ready and then you can get the wire on.”

 

“I'm surprised you don't get whiplash with how fast you change gears.” He muttered.

 

She heard him and came back, standing toe to toe with him. “As soon as you can say you aren't scared of being my partner, and of failing to back me up, you can start to point fingers at me! Until then, you don't have the right to tell me how to feel because you are just as messed up as I am when it comes to us.”

 

“We are messed up aren't we Sam? It's never easy anymore.” He seemed sad.

 

She finally felt the anger dissipate. They had both been through too much, seen too much in this life to really be able to live it without fear and hurt. They were always waiting for the bottom to drop out from under them. It wasn't that they didn't trust each other; it was that they didn't trust what life would bring. “No. It's not easy. But we'll make it through.” She reached for his hand, some small form of a peace offering. “Right?” She finally met his eyes, looking for some reassurance.

 

The urge to protect and reassure her became overwhelming. When he looked at her just then, he didn't just see his partner. He didn't just see the tough little spitfire with the quick spirited temper and the best long range shot he had ever seen. He didn't just see the woman ready to take a punch and throw one back, or the one who liked to saunter into nightclubs half dressed to catch a criminal.

 

No, she was so much more than just that to him. She was beautiful, sexy, smart and funny as all hell. She turned him on like no had ever done before and settled him when nothing else could. She was all fire and ice, and he wanted her incessantly. He wanted to wake up in the morning looking into those beautiful green eyes and be able to kiss her until she fell asleep at night. She was everything to him. Absolutely everything, and the knowledge of that nearly knocked the wind out of him.

 

He took her hand, trying to reassure her. “Yeah, Sammy, we'll make it through.” She tucked herself against him then, and his arms went around her.

 

He kissed the top of her forehead, knowing she didn't know the incredible, mind-numbing thing he had just discovered. She squeezed him and then peeled away and went back upstairs to finish getting ready.

 

Chris watched her go and then sank onto the couch and put his head in his hands, wearily trying to comprehend what he had just finally realized. He took a deep breath to calm his frayed nerves.

 

It was a truly horrible thing to come to the realization that the woman he was in love with was now upstairs getting ready for a date with a criminal.

 

+ + +

 

Brodie was waiting at the table when she arrived, the maitre'd leading her to a secluded area towards the back. Apparently Brodie came here often, as everyone employed there seemed to know him.

 

He sat in the booth, arms relaxed on the back of the plush leather as she slid in; trying to ignore the creepy feeling he gave her. She had managed to cover up most the bruise he had left on her face a few nights earlier with makeup, and she kind of regretted it. She had been interested to see if he would comment. He didn't, and that made her even more angry as it was indicative of the fact that he was used to manhandling his women and getting very little resistance or pushback, let alone even considering to offer an apology, no matter how meaningless it would have been.

 

“You look stunning cherie.”

 

She smiled. “Thank you. And thank you for the invitation, it's a lovely restaurant.”

 

“It's comfortable.”

 

No it wasn't, Rita thought. Sitting here with you is anything but comfortable. Especially knowing Chris could hear every word through the wire she had tucked into her dress. “I take it you come here often?”

 

He laughed. “Of course. The cuisine is impeccable. So cherie, I am curious as to why you accepted my little invitation.”

 

Rita felt her adrenaline kick in. She never knew when a suspect had made her on these undercover assignments so it was best to always stay on the highest alert. “You offered. I accepted. It's not more complicated than that. Should it be?”

 

He seemed to contemplate that for a moment before reaching for the tumbler filled with amber liquid on ice. “I wondered how serious you were with that Neanderthal boyfriend of yours.”

 

Rita tried not to let a small smile slip. She could practically see Chris cracking his knuckles at that moment, ready to show Brodie what a Neanderthal could do to mess up his three thousand dollar Armani suit. “We're not that serious. He's just a friend.”

 

“Oh no cherie. He is not just a friend. A friend does not come barging through guarded doors to come save the honor of a friend. He feels much more than that for you. But what makes me curious is not what he feels, but why you are willing to come sit with me for dinner after that spectacle.”

 

She faltered for a second, the words ringing oddly true after her conversation with Chris earlier that night. She hated that Chris could hear this and prayed he wouldn't confuse what she was about to say with the truth. “I'm not interested in him, Brodie. Undying devotion bores me.” She arched one eyebrow and smiled.

“I like a challenge, same as you.”

 

The moment was interrupted by the arrival of a waiter, from whom Brodie ordered a bottle of merlot and escargot from without asking her for a preference. Had this been a real date, Rita would have written him off just then. She preferred men who respected her opinion, and her ability to voice it. Chris would have never thought to order for her without asking. Besides, she hated snails.

 

“So what brings you back from LA?” Brodie clinked his ice in his glass as he swirled the liquid. He was too damned cocky for his own good.

 

“Again. Boredom. Los Angeles holds little appeal after awhile if you aren't trying to climb up onto a director's lap to be the next great starlet.”

 

Brodie laughed. “So why aren't you? Isn't acting the new thing for bored socialites?”

 

Rita didn't join his laughter. “Acting is for idiots. I prefer to use my brain.”

 

Brodie seemed to like that answer. “And how do you do that? What do you do?”

 

Rita looked him right in the eye, unwavering. “I figure out ways to make more money than I already have. And when I get bored, I do something else. Anything to keep from having to go to my father for one penny of my inheritance.”

 

“Ah yes, Machado Enterprises. I checked into you. Not your daddy's little protégé then?”

 

Her background cover had been placed very carefully, with a little help from Cap's old buddies in the NYPD. Machado Enterprises owned and operated fourteen hotels nationwide, and Lewis Machado had agreed to the paperwork trail for Samantha Machado in exchange for making an underage drinking bust that had occurred at a nightclub in one of his hotels in NY disappear. “Never. I told you. I don't like to be owned, not even by my father.”

 

“I like you, Samantha. There is a hunger to you I can appreciate.”

 

Rita looked him in the eye. “Not sure if I like you yet, Hunter.” She prayed she wasn't playing the bored vixen too strongly. She wanted Brodie to think she would be tough and ruthless enough so that Brodie would consider her ideal for Chloe's role, whatever that may have been. 

 

“Oh you will.” He sneered. “Time, cherie. Good things come to those who wait.”

 

The bottle of merlot arrived and the waiter began to open the bottle. “Monsieur? “ He indicated the bottle as he showed it to Brodie. Brodie gave him the go ahead to open the bottle and the waiter made a great show of opening the cork and offering it to Brodie, who inhaled the smell of it.

 

The waiter poured a small amount of the vintage into Brodie's glass. “No. Please offer it to my companion.” Brodie made a motion towards her.

 

Rita swirled the glass gently on the table, watching the liquid cling possessively to the goblet in successive rings. By that indication alone, she knew it was probably an exclusive vintage. She lifted the glass to her nose before taking a small sip. She waited a moment before responding. “It's good. For a domestic.”

 

Something flickered in Brodie's eyes before he began laughing loudly. He indicated for the waiter to pour for both of them. “You are priceless, cherie. That's a four hundred dollar bottle of wine.”

 

She narrowed her eyes at him. “It's a domestic nonetheless. You're in a French restaurant, Hunter. Why order a domestic when you likely have access to the best?”

 

He was still smiling. “You're a breath of fresh air. I think you and I are going to get along fabulously.”

 

“Maybe.” She finally smiled back at him. He had to think there was the promise of something more. “Especially if you get rid of this wine and buy a woman some champagne.”

 

Champagne? Are we celebrating cherie?”

 

The escargot arrived at that moment and Brodie began ordering for her again for their main course. She stopped him. “ Actually, no. I'd like the crepes please.”

 

Brodie nodded his head. “Yes, yes of course. She likes to order for herself.” He looked at Rita. “And bring a bottle of Dom Perignon and a decanter of Chambord.” The waiter bowed and left.

 

Chambord?” She looked mildly interested.

 

“To line the bottom of the champagne glass cherie. I believe they call it a ‘Chanel' here, after the famous Coco.”

 

“You have me all wrong, Hunter. I don't need fruity drinks, or men who order for me.”

 

He twisted his lips. “You don't? You like playthings, don't you? That explains the Neanderthal. Who still needs to be dealt with. Nobody disrespects me that way. I allowed him to leave of his own accord because you intrigue me. However he will be dealt with.”

 

Rita grabbed her purse and began to slide out of the booth. “Goodnight Hunter.”

 

His hand snapped out and grabbed her arm. “Where are you going?” He snarled.

 

She leaned back into the booth so her lips were near his cheek. “You intrigued me too. But you keep lowering yourself to this petty revenge issue. It's highly unattractive.”

 

Hunter turned his face so his lips were inches from hers. “So what do you suggest?”

 

She smiled seductively. “I suggest you keep your eyes on the larger prize.”

 

He lifted his eyebrows. “Which is?”

 

“If you don't know, then I think that is my cue to leave.”

 

Hunter looked directly at her chest, and then reached up, laying his hand flat against her neck. She fought the shiver that rose up within her at the contact. The way he held her, she didn't know if he was ready to strangle her or try and seduce her. His hands felt vile on her, especially after the heat that she had felt at Chris's touch earlier. Chris. Who was even at this moment sitting out front listening to everything going on in here. Hunter's hand began to dip lower and she caught it. He was also getting too close to the wire for comfort. “I don't think so, Hunter.”

 

“I thought you were my prize, cherie.”

 

“You have to win a prize, Hunter. What have you done to win me?” She countered. She was suddenly tired of the verbal sparring game she was having here with him. Her thoughts drifted back to Chris, and how she would so much rather be curled up in sweats in the front seat of the car with him, eating a burger and monitoring someone else in here with Brodie.

 

Brodie sat quietly for several minutes before he broke the growing silence. “I tried to offer you a gift the other night, Samantha. You rudely refused. How come?” His hand had drifted to her leg now, sliding along her thigh.

 

Again she caught his hand. “I wasn't in the mood.”

 

“But you do play? Correct?”

 

She forced a light laugh. “I spent the last four years in LA, Hunter. Who doesn't play there?”

 

He became quiet for the first time. “LA is quite a town, isn't it? Lots of money to be made, vices to be exploited.”

 

Her heart quickened. This was just the opening she needed. “Your party the other night was spectacular. There isn't anything quite so, how should I put it…organized in LA.”

 

Hunter downed his drink, placing the heavy crystal tumbler back on the table as the champagne arrived and was poured. He waited until the waiter had finished and left. “I thought all those producer types threw some very well stocked parties.”

 

Rita made a small derisive noise. “It's so mundane, Hunter. There's no surprise. Someone brings a little of this, someone else brings a little of that. You elevated it. Made it what it truly should be.”

 

His breathing quickened. “You understand then? The beauty of the parties?”

 

“The ultimate in excess? Allowing people to take their lives to the very extreme? You offered everything there Hunter,” Rita leaned into him and lowered her voice. “It was the absolute pinnacle of grotesque extreme. And you created it.”

 

His face had begun to sweat in his excitement of Rita's understanding. Rita had seen enough criminal maniacs to comprehend what motivated some minds. The crimes she had seen were usually about control. Or lack of it. There were those that killed to establish control, others that did it to maintain control and then there were the victims who killed to try and get back the control they had lost somewhere along the way. Hunter, if she guessed correctly, had grown up far outside the world he lived in now. This was about getting control over a segment of society that had probably shunned him at some point. He liked seeing them at his mercy, begging for something he had. And he could make money selling the drugs as well, enough to make him part of the crowd he so thought he despised. She brushed her hand over his face, ignoring the ache that had settled in her stomach from the revulsion of having to touch him. This was her job, and her personal feelings about him had no place here. His trust meant everything to this case, and the sooner she earned it the better.

 

“Ah Cherie, I knew I felt a kindred spirit with you.”

 

“I despise the world I grew up as much as you do, Hunter. There is a poetic justice in watching the most beautiful and privileged gorge themselves right into oblivion.” Rita leaned back and cocked her head. “Of course, knowing how to enjoy a little at a time is a skill in itself. One I pride myself on being very good at.”

 

Brodie swilled his wine as he nodded. “It's why you refused my offer the other night. I am impressed. Though your clumsiness obviously needed to be met with punishment. You understand of course?”

 

“Of course. For every action there is an equal and opposite reaction. The third of Newton's laws of physics. I set in motion events that caused my punishment.” She arched her brow and looked at him, hating what she was saying but knowing it was necessary to gain his confidence nonetheless.

 

Brodie looked pleased and seemed to make a decision. “You're a smart woman, Samantha. You and I may have business to do. We may be incredible allies.”

 

“Are you making me an offer, Hunter?”

 

The food arrived at that moment and Rita's stomach actually rumbled at the aroma from the truffle sauce drizzled over her crepes. She was momentarily distracted by the dish, nearly laughing out loud when she thought about Chris and his adorable five-buck rule for lunch. Guess they wouldn't be coming here for lunch anytime soon. She didn't care. She'd rather be eating at the roach coach with him any day.

 

She took a deep breath, her thoughts distracted again by the image of Chris sitting in the car outside, listening to her. She remembered a night years ago, not long after they had first been partnered in homicide when they had sat on surveillance together. There had been a instant that night where their relationship almost had become more than just partners, when he had looked at her in a way that made her toes curl, and for a moment now she wondered what would have happened if she had accepted the offer in his eyes that night. She made the mistake of letting tonight's conversation with him seep into her head, and she had the sudden urge to get up and go to the car to make things somehow fully right again. She felt restless because of the way things were left. Instead of being able to go to him, Rita was stuck here with Brodie. It was probably just as well because she still didn't know how to handle what Chris was asking.

 

“Cherie?”

 

She started; unaware she had been so lost in her thoughts. “Sorry. This smells incredible.”

 

Brodie was already digging into his meal. “Try this.” He cut her a piece and she stared at it. He smiled. “It's a specialty here. Filet mignon de porc à la vapeur de cidre.”

 

She quelled the childish urge to refuse him even though she didn't even want to share a fork with him. She took a bite, the pork melting in her mouth and making her groan, despite the situation. “That's incredible,” she murmured. “What is it?”

 

Brodie seemed satisfied with the appreciation she showed. “Its pork fillets steamed in cider and served with apples and sautéed baby shallots.”

 

Rita smiled knowing there was a little fun to be had in the evening. Chris was listening. No doubt lucky to have grabbed a fast food burger if anything at all. His diligence at protecting her probably kept him glued to his seat. Warmth and security settled over her in the knowledge that he was out there. She felt safe, even sitting next to a monster like Brodie. Her faith in Chris's ability to protect her made her good at her job and let her operate without fear. “It's amazing, Hunter. That pork just simply disintegrates in your mouth. And that shallot sauce…” She moaned.

 

Brodie had no idea the little show wasn't for his benefit. He beamed. “And yours? How is yours?”

 

Rita cut a small piece of the crepe and savored it. The food was incredible. “It's fantastic. The crepes are so delicate, and the sauce is light in consistency but the flavor…”

 

Brodie nodded. “I have had that as well. La poularde aux truffes à la vapeur. Steamed chicken crepes with truffles. Excellent choice. The only use free-range chicken as well, and only organically grown vegetables. Try this.” He held out a tiny steamed tomato on his fork.

 

She leaned over and ate it, the burst of warm sweet flavor exploding in her mouth as she bit into the bite size grape tomato. Her eyes widened as she swallowed it.  “It's so wonderfully succulent.” She reached for her champagne, finally enjoying some part of her job tonight. The smile that kept tugging at her lips threatened again as her thoughts shifted to Chris. “And the champagne. It's the perfect combination. I can't get enough of this sauce. They must have to simmer this for hours.”

 

“Are you a cook, cherie?”

 

She nearly spit out her food. If only Brodie knew. That was making Chris laugh no doubt. “No, actually, you couldn't really say that.”

 

“You don't like to cook?”

 

She cut another piece of the crepe and tried to get back to flirting with Brodie. “I don't do my best work in the kitchen, Hunter.” She whispered softly, leaning towards him. As soon as the words were out her face flamed. Oh God, Chris had heard that too and after earlier tonight, when he had had her propped up on her counter…

 

Brodie laughed, the sexual undertones in his voice making her squirm. “I'll bet you don't, Samantha.”

 

She had to bring the conversation back around before dinner was over. “When you suggested working with you, what exactly do you have in mind Hunter?” She tried to give him a come-hither look, but thought she was failing miserably now. She couldn't stop thinking about her kitchen earlier, and Chris. She needed to get out of there and talk to him. She looked at Brodie again and couldn't really fathom how sleazy he truly was. He was blonde and overtly muscled, and his hair had more products in it than all of the members of a boy-band combined.

 

Brodie was watching her, his hazel eyes trying to determine if she was trustworthy or not. Rita tried to smile in encouragement, but she kept comparing him to Christopher. Brodie was everything that was wrong in the world. He was greedy, selfish, deviant and ruled by material possessions. He didn't care what or whom he destroyed to get what he wanted, and rules and honor meant nothing to him. A fierce wave of protectiveness washed over her when she thought of how completely opposite he was of Chris. Chris was driven by honor and protection, and this insatiable need to do what was right. He would never hesitate to give up anything he owned if someone else needed it, and he would be there for her no matter what. In some ways, he had been so hurt by life, and in others he was still so innocent in his belief that the world could still be saved. She needed to figure out how to make him see that their friendship was too precious to risk by confusing their physical attraction for anything more. She would only end up losing him and that would destroy her.

 

Brodie was saying something and she had to focus. “I'm sorry; this food has my head drifting. What did you say?”

 

“Ah, ma cherie. I was saying that you and I may have quite an opportunity in Los Angeles, don't you think? You help me throw the parties, put the guests together and use your contacts. I create the…” he waved his fork in the air in a circle. “Should we call it ambiance?”

 

Rita's heart began to pound. It was just the offer she had been waiting for, and Brodie had bit much sooner than anyone had expected. She smiled beatifically at him as she began to feel out the parameters of her participation in Brodie's little game.

 

+ + +

 

Chris was restless.

 

He shifted again in the car seat, Rita's voice filling the dark confines of the station-issued Buick. He balled his left hand into a fist and bumped it against the window repeatedly. She had done it, Brodie wanted her into his operation. For the case, that was good, for him that was bad. It meant she would be in a lot of danger and that ate away at him. He didn't like the feeling he had about this case, especially the parts that would have her spending more time with Brodie. He knew he couldn't be the kind of backup she needed, especially in a case like this, where they still didn't know what they were dealing with.

 

Chris took a deep breath and tried to calm himself, the urge to run in there and grab her away from Brodie's prying hands growing stronger by the minute. He had always been protective of her, but this new possessiveness he felt towards her made him uneasy. She was playing with fire in there, challenging Brodie on all counts. She was flirting with him too, more than she needed to, the double entendres no doubt making Brodie's imagination run wild.

 

Besides all of that, the little tyrant was also making him hungry with all of her moaning and groaning about the food. He hadn't eaten since breakfast.

 

I'm not interested in him, Brodie. Rita's words echoed in his head. He knew she was playing a role, but the words still cut deep. His body had still not calmed from their encounter earlier. It was like he had finally let go of trying to reign in his attraction to her, and no there were no barriers left. He raked his hands through his hair and gritted his teeth, ready to punch something. He didn't want just a one-night stand with her. Chris knew there was something more there, but didn't know exactly what to do about it.

 

“…in LA. It's a tempting offer Hunter. I'm definitely interested. But what about here, in Palm Beach? Who has my role here?”

 

Chris sucked in a breath. Rita was being awfully bold. But he trusted her judgment. If she thought she could get away with the question then he believed her. Silence ensued and Chris's adrenaline kicked up. Did Brodie pick up on Rita's motivation in the questioning? His hand reached for the car door.

 

He heard Brodie offer a menacing chuckle and his hand stilled. “Actually, there might be an opening to manage the guest lists if you think you can handle it here, having been out of Palm Beach so long.”

 

Chris couldn't believe it. Rita had gambled with the question and won. “It's a possibility. Of course we have to discuss financial arrangements.”

 

“And what you think you can actually do for me. I also need to decide how much I trust you, Samantha. My last partner, well, she had ideas of her own if you know what I mean.”

 

Rita managed a nervous laugh. “I doubt crossing you would be in my best interests, Hunter. You've already shown me a glimpse of your version of crime and punishment. I'm sure you handled her appropriately?”

 

Again there was a prolonged silence before Brodie responded. “I dislike disrespect, as we have discussed. No matter, you and I will discuss this later. Shall we order dessert?” He changed the topic abruptly.

 

There was some soft murmuring and it sounded like Rita was fidgeting with a menu. She was pushing it tonight with Brodie, and it unsettled Chris. He dropped lower in the seat and tapped his fingers on the dash. What he really needed was a good long run on the beach to work out some of this agitation. Once Rita was settled into her temporary apartment tonight, the one reserved under Samantha Machado as her residence and set up by the department for the rest of this case, he would go pound it out on the sand. He also knew there was a coming argument from her when she realized that he planned on sleeping on the couch in the apartment.

 

He didn't trust Brodie at all and he wasn't about to risk Rita's safety to keep her pride intact.

 

He heard Rita laugh after some low whispers and he shut his eyes, her soft voice washing over him. Chris's body tightened in response, his thoughts drifting to earlier that evening. He didn't know how it had all come to this. He was having trouble fighting his feelings for her, she was running from him and he still wasn't sure their partnership was the safest thing for her.

 

He remembered an evening years ago when he had given her the Irish friendship ring that she still wore. The look on her face when he had done that had been incredible. It had seemed so simple then. She was his friend, the closest thing he had to true family, and he had loved her. She had stood by him when even he had begun to doubt his actions about the night when he had shot and killed the kid breaking into the house. Only Rita had fought for him with Cap against the department and made him fight for himself to prove the kid had been shooting at him first. He drew a ragged breath. Maybe it hadn't been so simple then. Maybe he had been in love with her all along and had known the chaos it would bring if he ever admitted it.

 

In love with her.

 

The words played over and over in his head. That had to be what this was. It was more intense than anything he had ever felt before. He couldn't fully grasp that he had actually gone and fallen in love with his partner. Now that he could somewhat admit it, at least to himself, he recognized what Jillian had been saying months ago when she said there hadn't been room in his heart for anyone else.

 

He slammed his hand against the steering wheel and swore softly. He had seen the way Rita ran from emotion with anyone she had ever dated. She liked to keep her distance, terrified that she would get hurt, and that had been fine with all the others. She would put work or Chris before her relationship and inevitably the relationship would fail. But now what? If he pushed her this time she wouldn't have work or him to stand between her and her fears. But if he pushed her too fast he could lose her for good. He had been the one she had expected to understand when she had broken up with anyone else. But he didn't want to understand anymore because this time she was running from him.

 

Deep in his heart he knew she felt the same way about him as he was learning her felt about her. It was in the way she had reacted earlier tonight when he had kissed her and the blatant look of hunger and need that had been matched in her eyes. She might not want to admit it, but her emotions were written all over her face.

 

Chris knew he must have been lost in his thoughts, because the next thing that he heard clearly over the wire was Brodie and Rita leaving the restaurant. He straightened in the seat, watching Brodie walk her to her Jag, another loaner from Vice.

 

Brodie leaned in and quickly kissed her goodnight and Chris was grateful he hadn't tried more than that. He heard Rita suggest they talk tomorrow before she slid into the silver car.

 

He started the Buick a moment later and pulled out after her, following her back to the apartment complex on Ocean Avenue, bracing himself for the argument he knew was coming.

 

Chris's stomach rumbled again, complaining about the lack of food. He wanted a rare burger, a good long run and a comfortable bed tonight, preferably one with Rita in it.

 

Tonight, unfortunately, he would have to settle for two out of three.

 

+ + +

“Chris. I can take care of myself.” She looked exhausted and worn out. She was standing there in the living room of the apartment in bare feet, her sandal straps still hooked through her fingers.

 

“Yeah. I know. So humor me.”  He wasn't budging.

 

She needed space tonight. So much had happened in one short day, between her confrontation with Chris and her date with Brodie, that she dreamt of a long hot bath and blissful sleep. She didn't need Chris to hover, and besides, he could use a decent night's sleep too, which he wouldn't get on the couch. “Chris. I have my cell phone, a gun and can throw a pretty mean punch. I think I can handle it. Besides, what do you really think is going to happen tonight? Brodie likes me. He wants to do business with me. He isn't going to come in here and kill me.”

 

Chris scowled. “I don't care. I have a bad feeling about this guy and I don't want you sleeping here alone tonight.” He narrowed his eyes at her. “Besides, as your partner, I get to follow my instincts too. And the