I know you well. Well, better than I used to.

[syl-thorn.livejournal.com]

Previously on CSI: Excolo:

D.A. O'HARA'S OFFICE
WANDA: "Let's start with public interests and sadists. That is everything you wanted to know about Robert Reeves' back alley deals, shadow businesses and dealings with Shairan and Madame Lei. He left those with me after he destroyed all other evidence... thought I was too stupid to look, I suppose. Or too beaten into silence. Those that are involved didn't seem to know I had those. I think Lei had a idea that I knew more than I professed to but never really moved hard on it. Just some overtures from her blonde goon, and Shairan, well... he had other things on me to force my complicity."
KATE: ""Wand... why are you doing this?"
WANDA: "My past caught up with me. I don't want to run anymore. I may end up in jail, I may end up in the bottom of the Pontalier... figured I'd get that into the right hands before that happens."

A DARK STREET IN THE RAIN:
HERMIA: "Hollow, it's over."
HERMIA and WINSTEAD struggling with JACK HOLLOW, finally overpowering him and getting him in cuffs
JACK: "Think I'll make it to giving a statement?"
HERMIA: "You'll make it."


Several months later, a cloudy afternoon...

Caught a ride with the moon,
I know I know you well,
Well, better than I used to.
Haze all clouded up my mind
In the daze of the why it could've never been.
So you say, and I say, you know you're full of wish
And your "Baby, baby, baby, babies,"
I tell you there are pieces of me you've never seen.
Maybe she's just pieces of me you've never seen well.

All the world is all I am:
The black of the blackest ocean,
And that tear in your hand...

M'fingers drum th'piano riff out on the steering wheel 's I wait for th'light t'change. Might be bloody sent'mental, but I always had a soft spot fer Tori. Her'n Meatloaf. Sayid used t'tease me 'bout't, back'n school. How I had "Little Earthquakes" 'n "Bat Out of Hell" next to "Do or Die" an' "Return of the Giant Slits" on m'shelf. "Tough punk chick with a romantic streak," 'e'd say, an' I'd mime punchin' im. Kids. Suck hard on m'cig's th'light goes green an'I press down on th'gas.

Insisted't be me who told Sayid's fam'ly't wuzn't comin' home. Really, they knew already, but still got t'watch'at last spark'f hope die innis mom's eyes. Her annis dad only really lost't when they knew we'd hadn't found'is body, that'ey couldn't hold th'proper fun'ral rites, th'bathin' 'n wrappin'n th'kafan. That we'd likely never find'is body. That even if'n we did find it, likely wouldn't be'n no state for th'rites t'be performed.

They still have me 'round fer dinner ev'ry week. 'is mom's like a ghost, pale'n thin, but she still fusses over me if'n I don't eat.

Belly's down t'a deep ache now, 'spec'ally on damp days like this. But t'day I don't hardly feel't. Cuz fin'lly, fin'lly we got'im. We got th'fucker. Sure, 'e wuz'n fer breakin'is bail, but b'tween Hollow an' th'info from Wanda, we were able to get Shairan remanded. Bastard's traded in'is Gucci fer jailhouse threads, an' th'date fer th' indictment 's set. Still got a lotta hurdles t'clear, but'is wuz th'first big one, an' a lotta bottles got passed 'round th'precinct that night.

But'at's not th'only thin'. Oh, th'informant wuz mighty clear 'bout jes' how close Tez'n Shairan've gotten. MIGHTY clear. An'I know Tez. Oh, I know'im. He'll be watchin' th'news. An' news 'bout Shairan gettin' jailed oughta make't all th'way down t'Mexico.

We got lookouts all over th'city. Ev'ry cop'n town's got'is photo. Should jes' be a matter'a time now.

You don't know the power that you have,
With that tear in your hand...
Tear in your hand...

Pull into m'parkin' space 'n yank down on th'brake. Jes' a matter'a time.

[OPEN to ALL]

Comments

EXCOLO PD

[hermia-sophia.livejournal.com]

It's warm enough to have the windows down a little as I drive back from lunch, at least as long as the rain holds off.

My phone buzzes as I'm pulling into the precinct parking lot, and when I fish it out to look, I see that it's a text from Valmont. Still in LA. How are you feeling?

Feeling pretty good, I text back. Finished setting up new apt yesterday! Last box unpacked.

That's pretty much been it, since we broke up. A text here, a call there. All friendly, but that's it. At least this time he's telling me where he is and when he'll be back.

It wasn't a bad breakup, as breakups go. I mean, no worse than it should have been, considering that it came six months into a relationship that included two unexplained absences on his part and both the biggest success and the biggest scandal to hit the Excolo PD on mine. Long work hours. Dodging the press. Having my new partner almost killed and my old partner arrested.

And, oh yeah, the pregnancy thing.

For all that Valmont and I both said that we were committed to being parents, and for all that we both really meant it, that's a pretty big strain to put on any relationship, let alone one that had barely gotten started before it had the baby bomb dropped on it.

Still, I actually believe him when he says that he still wants to play some role in the baby's life, and that he wants to be back when the baby's born. No matter what else he might be hiding from me, I believe that.

And he was hiding something. Still is. I don't know what, but I can tell when someone's hiding something. I'm still a detective, for pete's sake, even if I'm on desk duty for the duration.

Congrats! he texts back. Have a good day.

I stuff my phone back in my pocket and haul myself out of my car to head back into the precinct.

Yeah, the reason I'm on desk duty isn't a secret anymore. Hasn't really been possible to be a secret for the last two months or so.

Today's desk jockeying was staffing the evidence room in the morning, and now I've got a couple hours monitoring chatter from the dregs of Shairan's operation. There's been an uptick in the last few days, but it's not clear yet what that means. Maybe it means that they're planning something ahead of the indictment.

Or maybe it means that Tez is finally coming back. If that's it, then we're ready for him. We are so damn ready to haul his ass in that I'm surprised there isn't already a line around the block with everyone trying to be first in line to get him.

As I turn to head up the steps, I see Syl pulling in. I wave, and wait for her to get out of the car so that we can walk in together. "Hey," I call. "Still on for tonight?" Our Chinese-food-and-bad-movie nights started to get more frequent after Valmont and I broke up - they were a great consolation - and now they've become our regular Friday activity. It's good to have that to count on.

Re: EXCOLO PD

[syl-thorn.livejournal.com]

Hermia's at th'steps, an' I smile's she turns t'wave. Make sure t'stub out m'cig b'fore I open th'car door. Hermia's walkin'...really more like waddlin', bless'er, at'is stage...t'wards me, an'I grin. "Hey," she calls t'me. "Still on for tonight?"

"You know't," I grin. "'The Room' an' 'Snakes on a Plane'." An' booze fer me. Helps build up th'courage t'see Sayid's fam'ly on Sunday. Slam th'car door. "Any news?"

Re: EXCOLO PD

[hermia-sophia.livejournal.com]

"You know't," I grin. "'The Room' an' 'Snakes on a Plane'."

"Snakes on a Plane?" I repeat, grinning back. "Excellent." I try not to wrinkle my nose at the smell of cigarette smoke coming from her car. I know how hard it is not to smoke, and I do appreciate that she's trying to keep from doing it around me. "You want those shrimp potstickers again?"

I fall into step next to her, puffing up the stairs as we talk.

"Any news?" Syl asks.

I grimace, sobering again. "Not yet. I'm hoping there will be something good on the lines today. I know something's going on, and it's more than just the usual getting ready for a busy weekend of dealing at the clubs. It's about time we got something that we could actually use. What about you? Anything?"

Re: EXCOLO PD

[syl-thorn.livejournal.com]

Hermia grins when I mention "Snakes on a Plane." "Excellent. You want those shrimp potstickers again?"

"An' th'spare ribs," I nod. An' a bottle of wine. Or two. Fall into step b'side each other's we head inside.

"I'm hoping there will be something good on the lines today. I know something's going on, and it's more than just the usual getting ready for a busy weekend of dealing at the clubs. It's about time we got something that we could actually use. What about you? Anything?"

Stubbed th'last one out less'n a minute ago, but already 'm itchin' fer another cig. Been smokin' too much. Drinkin' too much too. Doc's all but thrown up'is hands. Whatever gets me through th'day, far's 'm concerned, an'I trust a bottle'a whisky b'fore I trust'ose painkillers'e gave me any day. "Nothin' yet. Havin' a helluva time keepin' th'witnesses calm." Took a lon damned ime t'figure out who we could trust wit' knowin' where'ey are, too. Tez...Hollow...can't trust nobody no more, save Hermia.

Re: EXCOLO PD

[hermia-sophia.livejournal.com]

"An' th'spare ribs,"

"You got it."

I know she'll want alcohol, too, but I'm not getting that for her. Not after the dirty looks they gave me in the liquor store the last time I did.

And anyway, I'm not foolish enough to think that if I don't bring it, she won't drink.

God, I'm worried about her. There have been a hundred times over the last few months when I wished I could say something - that she should drink less, that she should sleep more. I might have a better chance of being able to say something about it than anyone else. But I know that it wouldn't help. The only thing that will help is putting an end to this case, so I'll keep working on that.

Of course, putting an end to this case will mean taking down Tez, and that will make things worse before it makes them better.

"Nothin' yet. Havin' a helluva time keepin' th'witnesses calm."

"It'll come," I say quietly. "It will." It's still more faith than confidence, but I have to say it. "We'll get something. Like I said, I know something's about to break. It's just a matter of figuring out what it is before it happens."

I pull my jacket aside so my badge shows and push the door open, holding it for Syl to go into the precinct ahead of me.

LEI'S COMPOUND

[dorian-excolo.livejournal.com]

It's threatening rain when I find myself a block out from the compound. I know where I'm going. I've known since I left the apartment this morning, only it's taken me a few hours to get to it. To work up the courage. Humidity is thick in the air and my shirt clings to my skin under the thick hooded sweatshirt I'm wearing. I tell myself that it is the humidity.

I do wish it was more difficult to get inside, but I just walk in. Through the service entrance (I don't bother waste time with my access code, and of course Prewitt never thought to change his), up the back stair through the kitchen (cook is on her mobile, son's just gotten home from school), and on to my room.

My room. It feels wrong. Old and untouched and stale. And I left the closet door open. All this time, I've left it open, and that bothers me enough that I close it, leave the room, and shut the door behind me.

I can't go back and fix all the little things. That's the problem. That's why I'm here. I can't fix any of it and I miss her.

I slip into her rooms. The whole house smells of her, but it's worse here, obviously. I listen for a moment, but it's just us. "Madame?" I call out as I move into her sitting room. "I would've knocked, but I wanted..." I sigh and then I see her.

I straighten where I stand, set my face. "I wanted to talk to you alone." I bow my head. "I apologize."

Re: LEI'S COMPOUND

[lei-miao-shan.livejournal.com]

I commanded my guards to leave me some time ago, and they did so without hesitation. Once, just a few weeks ago, it would not have been so. Once there would have been Dorian and Constantine both here, and perhaps Constantine would have duties to attend to, but in all likelihood Dorian would be here, sitting in the corner or at my feet. My tomcat was almost always here, at my side.

Constantine...after what happened with Miss Graves, it was impossible to trust him. He is still a member of my retinue, for his skills are too valuable to be wasted, but no longer is he my retainer. How could I trust him when he proved to have such a lack of control?

And Dorian...Dorian simply has not been home. His phone has been switched off, and there has been no word. I know that he is not in jail, not in any hospital or morgue, but beyond that, I know nothing. My tomcat has gone astray.

The morning's appointments are done, and so I sit in my room. There is a glass of lychee wine at my hand. There has been no one to replace Constantine and Dorian in my guard, and so I am alone. And my bed has been cold, so cold in the night.

I sigh, taking a long sip of my wine. What is it, Miss Graves? What is it about you that gives you such power to disrupt my household?

And then, there is a soft noise. "Madame? I would've knocked, but I wanted..."

There is a frozen moment between us, where he and I only look at one another. And then he bows his head. "I wanted to talk to you alone. I apologize."

The glass of wine tumbles, unheeded, to shatter and stain the plush rug. And my ankles throb like shattered glass as I get to my feet and stumble to him. "Where have you been?" I gasp, my hands gripping his shoulders, his shirt, drawing him into my arms. "Oh, my Dorian, where have you been?"

Re: LEI'S COMPOUND

[dorian-excolo.livejournal.com]

I look up from the carpet to see that she's on her feet, crossing the distance between us before I can say anything to stop her. "Where have you been?" she asks, before she pulls me into her arms. "Oh, my Dorian, where have you been?"

I wrap my arms around her waist to help her stand because she shouldn't be on her feet like this, she shouldn't, and I hold her against me like she's something precious, fragile, because she is and it's my fault.

"I'm so sorry," I say softly. "Madame, please--" I pull back enough to look at her. "Please let me help you sit down."

Re: LEI'S COMPOUND

[lei-miao-shan.livejournal.com]

Dorian's arms are around me, holding me up almost by reflex, supporting me about my waist. "I'm so sorry. Madame, please--Please let me help you sit down."

"Yes," I say. "The sofa, please, Dorian." And he half-carries me there, his grip firm and familiar. It has been so long, so long since this has happened. Dorian and Constantine were the only ones I allowed to see me in such a state, when I was vulnerable. There were the only ones I could trust in such a way. And then they were gone, and I simply...could not be vulnerable any longer. And so I would take higher doses of my medication, smile through the shards of glass in my angles, shorten appointments. But I have been tired, oh, so very tired.

He settles me as he has so many times, sitting beside me, that same familiar worry in his eyes. The Don't be angry with me. Please. look. I cup his cheek and study. "Dorian, baobei, I have been worried." my thumb strokes his cheekbone, feeling the flutter of his lower lashes against my nail. "Is she all right? Miss Graves?'

Re: LEI'S COMPOUND

[dorian-excolo.livejournal.com]

"Yes," she says, thankfully, "the sofa, please, Dorian." I help her sit and then take my place beside her. Except that it's not my place, not anymore. And I think it shows, how that feels, I think it shows on my face, because she touches my cheek, and she says my name. "Dorian, baobei, I have been worried."

I close my eyes a moment, only until she speaks again, and her hand feels cool on my face. "Is she all right? Miss Graves?"

"Yes," I say, looking at her. She isn't why I came, Glass isn't, and when I try to find the words for why I'm actually here, there's nothing. In all the hours it took, I never actually thought of what I would say. It's as though I knew that, somehow, just seeing her would make everything all right.

I was wrong about that too, wasn't I?

"I'm not. All right." There's something about saying it that I hate, like it's more real now, just because the words are out. "I've fucked it all up."

Excolo Botanical Gardens

[mistresswanda.livejournal.com]

I wish the sun were out a little more, but then again... I'd burn to a crisp. Still, I am happy yo be outside, happy to not worry quite so much about bullets to the back of the head or being thrown into a car, never to be seen again. For quite possibly the first time in years I feel free.

Percy's went back to Boston over a month ago. I feared, as soon as they carted Shairan off, that my protection was gone. But what I gave Kate was enough to keep me from legally leaving the city limits until it was all processed. And then the police report about my shooting him went missing. It was the oddest thing. There was no record anymore, none whatsoever. He was livid, of course. I thought in his fury he might do something terrible...

but then a witness turned up about money laundering in connection to his family. And then a report about a cartel dealing in conflict diamonds; and cops on the take. And a string of brothels. Suddenly, I was no longer important.

And Percy was gone.

So after sending a quick text this morning, I headed over here to wander about the flowers and wait for my friend. I think I owe him a thank you, probably more. I hope the small token if my appreciation for all I think he's done for me will be enough. With a song on my lips, I find a bench over by the sunflower border and wait.

Re: Excolo Botanical Gardens

[docconstantine.livejournal.com]

I spot her car in the parking lot, and slip the envelope inside and under the seat while making damn sure no one notices me doing it. Knew the bracelet was worth something when she asked me to fence it, but a Harry Winston? She should be set up for quite some time with what I was able to get for it. I lock the car and head into the public space, for we only ever meet in public.

It takes a bit, for there are acres of gardens, but finally I see a flash of red hair over by the sunflowers. Can't help but grin as I stroll over and join her on the bench.

"Thought you'd be over by the roses," I comment easily, dropping down beside her and stretching out my legs. "What can I do for you today, pretty lady?"

Re: Excolo Botanical Gardens

[mistresswanda.livejournal.com]

I think I have run through at least four broadway tunes in my head when I spot Lucien ambling towards me with that stupid grin; hands in his pockets.

"Roses are pretty, but droop too easily. The sunflowers are happy." I inform him looking up at the large flower heads above us, tilting their faces to the sky.

"I don't need anything, I just wanted to see you. Did you have any trouble getting away?" I ask, concerned. I don't want him to get into trouble with Madame because if me.

Re: Excolo Botanical Gardens

[docconstantine.livejournal.com]

Consider the sunflowers and nod in agreement. "I suppose you're right. Sunflowers suit you," At least now they do. Never met a woman so sad and scared before I became friends with Wanda. It's nice to see her relaxed, and smiling.

"Did you have any trouble getting away?"

Can't help but to laugh at that; nor can I keep the bitterness from it. "I'd have to be missed to get in trouble. As it were, my schedule is much more free than I used to be." I see her face fall from the corner of my eye, and I sigh and rake a hand through my hair. "Sorry, I supposed you don't need to hear me moan about nothing important."

Re: Excolo Botanical Gardens

[mistresswanda.livejournal.com]

His laugh is sharp and brittle, and his expression goes cold before it melts away into something akin to miserable.

"Lucien, you listened to me ramble on about all my problems, and I think you helped take care of a lot of them." I give him a pointed look, and he gives me a ghost of a smirk.

"That's why I wanted to see you. Was it you that made my warrant in Boston disappear?"

[tezcatl-ipoca.livejournal.com]

Never thought I'd be back in this town. Definitely not under cover of darkness, my hair buzzed short and a fucking itchy beard disguising me a bit, at some run-down Pontalier dock. Skin feels like it's itching, being this close to Al; like there's a wire hooked in my heart that's pulled me straight back here, to him.

Glance at the bodyguard that Jeanie sent. Supposed to've found us somewhere to lie low, until Al's people can put the breakout into effect. Doubt he'll be happy to see me - well, to see me, yeah, but not to learn've put myself at risk like this. But I couldn't not come, could I? Can't leave him in jail, my Al with his wide skies, his poetry. Not without me.

[leah-pontarlier.livejournal.com]

Almost finished, I think, as I lead Ipoca away from the boat and in the general direction of the place I rented for the next few days. I try to offer him a reassuring smile when he glances my way, but it doesn't come easily. "It's not far," I tell him.


Part of me's relieved to have gotten this far, but most of me is still tense because there is still so much that can go wrong.

This next bit is going to be tricky. I let half a breath out and try to let some of the tension escape with it. I know the wait is what's eating at my nerves. That too long space between set up and action.

I know all I have to do is turn on my phone and send Jeanie a text to let her know we're here. I could probably do it right now in fact. But something, some instinct, holds me back; tells me to wait til we get inside. Maybe I just don't want him to be watching me while I do it. While I betray him.

[tezcatl-ipoca.livejournal.com]

Fucking hate this city. Too much bad's happened here, and it's so different from life with Al. Real life, now, sun and love, a new life just us. City's all memories of pain, now, one way or another.

Keep telling myself it's going to be alright, we're going to be, he will. Knew he shouldn't have come to see me, shouldn't have risked it. Blame myself, for all of it: him coming to Mexico, what they've got him for. He did that cos of me, beat that stupid fucker. Just got to get through this and then he can put it all behind him, what he used to be. Just be the Al he is with me, not Al fucking Shairan, not any more. Not be the man his father made him. Setting him free in more way than one, yeah.

'S funny, how run-down the place we're staying seems now. I mean, it is, but after the luxury of Al's money I notice it more than I ever would. 'S dirty, too, and even as a kid I was brought up that we might be poor but we were proud. (S'pose that's part of why I've always been a slob, teenage rebellion I never grew out of.)

Dump my bag on one of the beds and glance at her. Weird to think people'll think we're fucking, bloke and a girl sharing a room. Wouldn't touch her, of course; wouldn't even occur to me. All I can think about's Al, skin itching from need for him to touch it. So sick with stress. Makes me miss my old tranqs, miss drinking more. Wouldn't do that to him, though.

Look at the girl: "So. What's next?"

[leah-pontarlier.livejournal.com]

He's looking at me again. So. What's next? With those dark eyes all hopeful and tired and so willing to go along with my plans. I feel another surge of guilt as I turn my phone on and let it boot up.

"First we order some food, then we get some intel and make a basic plan. Then sleep on it."

This CIA deep cover gig is much harder than I thought it would be. I thought I'd be be able to get my revenge on Al and that by getting Tez to return and be taken was something I could do and it would hurt him. But now that I've spent all this time with Ipoca, I'm not so sure.

A bullet or knife would be much cleaner. I could do it. He trusts me. I could do it while he sleeps.

But the CIA doesn't trust me. And the only way I can see me getting to walk out the other end of this is if I give them what they want.

Look down at my phone as the screen settles and start tapping at it. "D'you want pizza, Chinese or Indian for dinner?"

[tezcatl-ipoca.livejournal.com]

"Chinese," I say at once. Smile a bit, cos: "I've missed that, proper greasy take-out from this city." Sit on the bed and haul my leg up onto with my hands, cos my thigh aches so fucking badly, so I can lie down. Maybe 's being tired that makes me say, "Remember eating that with Al one night. Asked him to get cheap Chinese, and he got Jeanie to order me some. Well, she wouldn't get that, exactly," smiling a bit, "said she wouldn't order lao wai MSG shit. But I got grease, anyway. Was - good. Yeah."

Remember it so well, sitting in Al's penthouse. City lights outside, smell of garlic and ginger in the air. Miss him so fucking much; 's a constant pain, worst than my missing leg. Rub my chest absently, just under my breastbone, but I can't rub the ache away. Think miserably: fuck, Al. Why aren't you here? and I'll fix it, love. I promise. 'Ll do anything.

See her looking at me, so I just say, "Miss him. Yeah," and look away.

The Diabolique

[mistresswanda.livejournal.com]

I was not your woman, I was not your friend,
But you gave me something to remember.
No other man said love yourself
Nobody else can.
We weren't meant to be,
At least not in this lifetime,
But you gave me something to remember.
I hear you still say, "Love yourself"...

The piano plays the last notes mournfully as I wander off the stage, swaying to the music. I hear the applause, but I am not feeling any of rush I get from performing and being appreciated. My head is too full of thoughts and ideas; 'maybe's' and 'what if's'.

Slip into the dressing room and close the door behind me. Peel off my elbow length gloves and drop down onto a chaise, wilting over it as much as my sequin gown will allow me to at any rate.

"Dammit, should've brought a bottle back with me." I complain to no one, closing my eyes and shutting out the world for a moment.

[syl-thorn.livejournal.com]

Hermia's hand slides up m'thigh, warm'n gentle, an' suddenly we're kissin' each other, deep'n firm. Holy God, never thought't Hermia'd be such a good kisser. She's bolder'n I woulda given'er credit for, her hand high up on m'leg an'er tongue dancin' cross m'lips. Sweet, strong, firm, annit makes me tingle'n all th'right ways.

One of'er breasts fits nice into m'hand, soft anna bit swollen, jes' like I thought. 'ccurs t'me't I ain't never been witta pregnant chick b'fore, least not one so far 'long. Wonder if'n'll taste milk when I suck'er nipples. I tip Hermia over, gently, into th'corner of the couch, sweetly kissin' down'er neck, t'er chest, fingers workin' at th'buttons on'er blouse.

[hermia-sophia.livejournal.com]

I shiver again as Syl's hand curves around my breast - pregnancy has made them more sensitive, and I feel every touch deep inside me. "Mmmm," I murmur.

Something in the back of my mind is reminding me of all the ways I have no idea what I'm doing. I've never done anything like this with a woman before - kissing girls at parties, sure, but nothing like this. And I hardly know my own body these days, let alone anyone else's. Every day I'm bigger, rounder, softer, off-balance - and, honestly, I haven't been feeling like anyone would even find me pretty. Sexy didn't even enter into it.

But Syl's kissing me like she means it - I can feel her lips and tongue responding, pressing harder against mine as I kiss her more deeply. And she really knows what she's doing. There's nobody I trust more in the world - I've followed her lead a hundred times before, and I'll follow her now.

She guides me softly down, more gentle than I've ever seen her before. Her mouth only leaves mine to slip down to my neck, kissing farther and farther down until she has to unbutton my blouse to go any farther. She's about to get to the knots of twisted scars that cover my chest, but somehow I don't feel self-conscious at all. "Yes," I whisper, before I bury my face in her hair. I tug at her shirt, stretching my hands out to reach under it, pressing against the warmth of her skin as they slide up her back.

[syl-thorn.livejournal.com]

S'Hermia ever been witta girl b'fore? She mentioned a couple kisses'n college, but nothin' more'n 'at. Ain't even talked 'bout bein' 'ttracted t'chicks. But oh, if'n she don't feel 'n act like she's all for'is right now. C'n feel'er nipple comin' up firm under m'hand, body risin' under mine. She sighs's I move down, unbuttonin'er shirt. Th'scars on'er chest. I seen how she hides'em in th'locker room, th'gym. Way she tries t'keep others from seein'em. But now she's shruggin' free of'er shirt wit' no thought't all, an' she's lovely, she's lovely. Th'rough feel of puckered scar tissue on m'lips, m'tongue, th'feel of'er hands tuggin' m'shirt, helpin' me wriggle free ovvit. Toss't aside, grin an' look down at'er, shirt open, smilin', sweet, th'scars...

Sayid bending in the snow, Sayid's head bursting apart in a spray of blood and brains, the muzzle flash of Tez's gun...

Oh God. Lurch backwards, eyes squeezed shut, belly clenchin'. Sure'm gonna be sick forra minute, dig m'teeth inta th'meat'a m'cheek. Will bloody not. I will bloody not be sick on'er, not my girl.

"God," I says, buryin' m'face'n m'hands. "God. I'm sorry, Hermia. I'm sorry."

[hermia-sophia.livejournal.com]

She pulls off her own shirt before I can do it, and I slide my arms out of my sleeves. She's warm and strong - I can see the muscles of her arms moving as she reaches towards me again - and I can see her scars too, the scars that show just how much we share. She gazes down at me, her hair falling free, and I smile and reach up -

- and then she suddenly jerks back, hands over her mouth and her face gone pale and sick as she sobs, "God," I says, buryin' m'face'n m'hands. "God. I'm sorry, Hermia. I'm sorry."

"What?" All of the giddy bubbles of passion burst at once, leaving only sharp fear and muddled confusion behind. "What? Syl, what's wrong?" I struggle upright, a turtle on its back hauling up to sitting again, reaching out with my bare arms to gather her into a hug.

Oh God, she looks awful. Did I do something wrong? Is she just scared because it's her first time doing this after Sayid? It hurts to see her looking like that...

"Syl, if I did something, I'm sorry, whatever it is."