Archive of Our Own

Work Text

He was late.Weaver swore under his breath as he mounted the stairs, headed for the third floor apartment which had once been his alone, and, for all too brief a time, theirs together.
He had moved out three months ago, renting a one-bed in a worse part of town, and filling his days and nights with as much work as he could to take his mind off the fact that his life was going down the fucking toilet along with his marriage.Looking back he wondered how the hell they had ever gotten together in the first place.
It wasn’t as though he had been anything to look at, just another middle-aged detective who worked too much, drank too much and got bugger-all sleep.
And then she had come crashing into his life, a force of nature with the face of an angel, a foul mouth and a caring nature that she tried her best to hide.
It had almost felt like a dream.
One that, in the deep depths of his heart, he knew he didn’t want to wake from.He reached the apartment, knocking on the door as he caught his breath.
The chain rattled, and Lacey peered out, one blue eye looking at him through the gap a little fearfully.
She closed the door without a word, taking off the chain, and opened it up.“You’re late,” she said.“I know.”
He stepped inside, running a hand through his hair.
“I’m sorry.”“You always are,” she said, her tone flat.She had folded her arms around herself protectively, just as she had when they first met four years earlier, her hair swept up on top of her head.
She was tugging at her lower lip with her teeth in that way she had, looking thin and pale and fragile.
He wished he could make it better.
He wished he could have made her happy.“Can I see her?” he asked, and Lacey sighed.“Look, I just got her down,” she said.
“You were supposed to be here an hour ago.”“I know, I know.”
He ran his hands over his face.
“There was a murder, I got called out.”“Would leaving on time for a fucking change have made this person more dead?” she asked dryly.“I lost track of time,” he said evenly, and she shrugged, turning away from him.“You want a drink?” she asked.
“I had a glass of wine with dinner.
There’s plenty left.”“Alright.”He watched her go to the kitchen, hips swaying, her shoulders tense.
There was the sound of a cupboard opening and closing, and then he heard the pop of a cork and the glug of pouring liquid.
She came back into view, long legs in black stockings and high-heeled shoes, a hint of cleavage showing in the tight dress she was wearing.
It made him want to fucking cry, she looked so perfect.“You look very nice,” he ventured.
Hesitantly, feeling as though the words were being dragged from him, raking painful scratches in his soul, he added: “who’s your date?”“I don’t have a date.”“But you’re going out,” he said.“Yeah,” she said abruptly.
“Work.”“Since when?”“Since I started back at the Rabbit Hole, that’s when.”His eyes widened.“Lacey, I—”“Don’t ‘Lacey’ me!” she snapped, red wine sloshing in the glasses she held. “It’s something I can do, okay?”She thrust a drink at him, and he took it, taking a sip to give his hands something to do while she hid behind her own glass, blue eyes watching him over the rim.“How long has this been going on?”“A week.”“And Tilly?”Lacey sighed.“She has sleepovers with Henry,” she said.
“Roni’s there, it’s fine.”
“But I thought I was giving you enough,” he protested.
“You said you were going back to school.
What happened?”“I don’t know.”
She shrugged.
“Guess I realised I was kidding myself.
People don’t change, right?”She took a slurp of wine, not really looking at him, her body turned away from him a little.
He remembered how things used to be, when they had broken a chair fucking each other into a frenzy.
When he had lifted her up on the kitchen table and let the dinner burn as she screamed in pleasure.
When he had peeled the clothes from her and laid her down in the bed and spent hours making her come.
God, he missed her!Lacey was watching him out of the corner of her eye, still chewing at her lip, and he wanted to kiss her, to take that lip between his own and taste her on his tongue again.
A ridiculous idea, of course, and he took another sip of wine.
She seemed to be thinking about something, and all at once she shook her head, setting down her glass and crossing to the couch where her purse sat.
She reached in, pulling out a thick envelope of papers, and held them out to him.“They came today,” she said.
“We’re supposed to sign.”Weaver eyed the envelope as though it contained a snake.
Divorce papers. The final piece of the pathetic puzzle he had been making since he met her. Lacey’s lower lip was trembling a little, but she lifted her chin, shaking the papers at him.“Just take them, would you?” she whispered.The paper felt alien to him, smooth as the skin of a snake, heavier than they ought to be, and he tightened his grip around them as they left her fingers, a dead weight, hanging between them like so many things they had left unsaid, undone.
God, it fucking hurt.“It’s what you wanted, right?” she said
No.
No, it was never what I wanted.
It was what you needed.
He gave her a curt nod, squeezing all his feelings into a ball inside his chest and shoving them down into the pit of his stomach.“I’ll look them over,” he said, his voice ringing in his ears, echoing around him.Lacey nodded, clutching her purse to her belly, her eyes wide and sparkling, as though she was about to cry.“Right,” she whispered.
“Well, I’d better go, then.”He stared at the papers in his hand, the sounds she made barely registering: the soft noise of her drawing on a coat, the jingle of keys.“I’ll - uh - I’ll be back around two,” she said, and he looked up as she gestured to the apartment.
“Make yourself—”“—at home?” he finished, his tone wry.
“A little late for that, isn’t it?”She pressed her lips together, holding his gaze for a moment, and then looked away, dashing at her cheek with her thumb.“See you later,” she muttered, and then she was gone, out of his life once more with a click of the lock and the scent of her perfume and the dull pain of heartbreak in his chest.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

The apartment was very quiet when she had gone, the only sound a hollow sort of ticking from the clock on the wall.
Ticking away the last remaining moments of whatever it was they had.
Weaver felt drained, far wearier than a twelve-hour day should have left him, and he took his wine and sat down on the couch, opening up the papers she had given him.
He couldn’t take it all in, and had to read them through three times.
It was all there.
Everything she had asked for.
Everything he had agreed to without question.
A sum of money each month.
Visitation rights to his daughter, right down to where she would be each Christmas, all set out in cold black ink in an emotionless series of numbered paragraphs.
Rows of dotted lines beneath, waiting for their signatures, their agreement.
Waiting for them to make their separation permanent, make it real.
He licked his lips, tears pricking at his eyes, and tossed the papers aside.“Daddy?”Tilly had shuffled into the room, rubbing an eye with a small fist and dragging the somewhat bedraggled red plush dragon she carried everywhere with her. She blinked at him sleepily, light brown curls just brushing the shoulders of her PJs.“Hey, sweetheart!” he said gently.
“What are you doing up?”“Bad,” she mumbled, and yawned as he reached for her, pulling her onto his lap and kissing her soft hair.“A bad dream?” he asked.
“Why don’t you tell me about it, and I’ll see if I can help?”“Bad man made Mummy cry,” she said, in a tiny voice, and he hugged her close, inhaling the scent of baby shampoo.
Oh God, has she been crying again?
Did I make her cry?
“Well,” he said quietly.
“You know Daddy chases bad men for a living, right?”Tilly looked up at him with wide, dark eyes.
She had Lacey’s features, but his brown eyes and slightly pointed ears, and he had fallen in love with her the moment she was born.
It was hard to be sure at the age of three, but he suspected she would have Lacey’s stubbornness, as well.
Her spirit.“Yes,” she said stoutly, lower lip protruding.
“Daddy catches bad men!”“That’s right,” he agreed.
“So if any bad men come here, what will happen to them?”“Go to
jail!” she said excitedly, bouncing on his lap, and he grinned.“Absolutely they will,” he assured her.
“I won’t let any bad men hurt you or Mummy, sweetheart.
I promise.”She seemed satisfied with that, and nestled against his chest, putting her thumb in her mouth.
Weaver kissed the top of her head again, feeling her relax against him as she drifted into sleep.
He remembered all the times he had held her close, when he and Lacey were together, curled in bed on a Sunday morning with coffee steaming on the nightstand and rain lashing against the windows.
It seemed a lifetime ago.He let her sleep for half an hour, her warmth and presence comforting his tortured soul, and then gently picked her up, carrying her through to the little room they had painted for her, the walls lilac and pale blue, a rotating night light sending stars and moons and unicorns around the room in a pale pink light.
Tilly sighed as he tucked her in with her toy dragon, and he bent to kiss her forehead.“Sleep well, my darling,” he whispered, and sneaked out again, leaving her door ajar and settling himself back on the couch.He tried looking at the divorce papers again, but it was too fucking depressing, so he set them on the coffee table and turned on the news, watching the headlines and seeing nothing.
He had finished his wine, but he didn’t bother with a second glass.
Lacey had said she would be home around two, and he sat upright on the edge of the couch, drinking coffee in a bid to stay alert at the end of a day that had started before the sun was up.
It was probably his fifteenth cup since rising, and he was wired and jittery.
When they were together, Lacey had got him to cut down to four, but since he had started living alone again he had fallen back into his old ways.
Too much coffee and whisky and not enough decent food.
He had to do something about it.
Tilly deserved better than a fucking screw-up for a father.The time crawled, and after half an hour or so he decided to check in at work. That was something else she had cured him of when he was off duty, but what the hell else did he have to do these days?
There had been no developments in the murder case, and Detective Fa told him in no uncertain terms to fuck off and get some rest.
Scowling in frustration, he shoved his phone back in his pocket and paced the room, eyeing the books stacked carefully on the shelves before realising he didn’t have the energy or the patience to concentrate on anything.He wondered why Lacey had really decided to return to the
Rabbit Hole.
He didn’t believe for a moment that she needed the money.
Not that desperately, anyway.
Not enough to go back to the place she despised and the boss she loathed.
He had known her for three weeks when he had first seen the bruises on her arms, and when he had the truth out of her, she was moved into his apartment, and that walking ballsack Garrett was charged with assault.
She couldn’t possibly have gone back there willingly.
He was agitated, pacing back and forth, and stopped abruptly, running his hands over his face as he tried to calm himself.
No point in working himself up over anything when he had to wait for her to get back.

By the time he heard her key in the door, his nerves were close to breaking point, and he took three long breaths to calm himself, relief at her return almost overwhelming.
Lacey eyed him briefly above the scarf wound around her chin to keep out the bitter cold, nodding a greeting and turning to close the door behind her.
He watched her walk to the kitchen, her head bowed, chin tucked lower in the scarf as she rooted in her bag for something.“She okay?” she asked, as she flicked on the kitchen light.“Woke up once,” he said.
“Bad dream.
She’s alright.”“Good.”He followed her through, closing the kitchen door behind him, and found her standing at the counter with her back to him.
She shrugged out of her coat, dropping it on the counter, but didn’t take off the scarf.“How was your night?” he asked evenly, and Lacey shrugged.“Well, it’s over,” she said dryly.
“So there’s that.”Weaver sighed.“I don’t understand why you’re doing this.”“It’s my business if I choose to get a job, alright?” she said stiffly.“Of course it’s your bloody business!” he snapped.
“This isn’t about you bloody working, it’s about you working
there!
Last time you set foot in that fucking place I had to arrest your bloody boss!”She shifted uncomfortably.“Yeah, well, that was then,” she muttered.“And now?”Lacey didn’t answer, leaning on the counter with both hands, her shoulders rising up, her head down.
Her hair shone in the light, copper highlights gleaming.“I need the money,” she whispered.“If you need money all you have to do is ask!” he insisted.
“I thought we’d worked all this out!
The bloody divorce papers seem to have it all sewn up.”“I don’t want anything more from you,” she said automatically.
“No more than you agreed, okay?
I want - I want to do things myself.”“And that includes going back to a place where you were fucking miserable?”“It includes finding someone who’ll hire me for a job I can actually
do,” she said, still not looking at him.
“I’m a pragmatist, Rafe!
I know what I can do and - and I know what I can’t.
I’m moving forward, and so should you.”“Moving forward,” he said, with a sneer.
“You’re not bloody
moving forward, Lacey, you’re regressing!
This is you from
four years ago, for fuck’s sake!”“What, you thought you could take the street kid who skipped school from the time she was thirteen and turn her into a fucking
functional human being?” she snapped.
“Who were you kidding?
Huh?
Not me, that’s for sure!”“Will you stop acting as though your life is over because you made a few wrong choices when your back was against the fucking wall!” he said sharply. “You’re better than that!”She shook her head, still not looking at him, and it was like a knife in the chest, a finger of ice in his heart.
Had she grown to despise him, the man twice her age who had gotten her pregnant in a moment of utter stupidity?
The man she had been trapped with?
Could she not bear to see him?
God, he didn’t want her to hate him.
He had never wanted that.“Thanks for coming over,” she said, her voice brittle.
“You can see yourself out, right?”He turned away, the shard of ice twisting, hurting, but turned back to try again, running a hand through his hair.“Look - Lacey,” he said wearily.
“I don’t want to fight, okay?
Can we - can we not, please?
I don’t want this to be our default setting.
It never used to be.”She was silent for a moment, but he saw her shake her head.“No,” she said.
“No, it didn’t.
I don’t want to fight, either.
I don’t.”“Right,” he said, more calmly.

“Good.
Then maybe things can be different.
Maybe we can - can get along.
We always
did
get along - I don’t know when things changed.
Was it me?”“No,” she whispered.

“No, it wasn’t you.”More silence.
He tried to think of what to say to break it, but Lacey shifted, turning her head slightly, so that he could see the pale curve of her cheek, the dark curl of her lashes.“You were good to me,” she said quietly.
“You’ve always been good to me.
You took in the girl you knocked up when you could have just paid me off.
You tried, I know that.
I know it wasn’t what you wanted.”
How can you possibly know what I wanted?
I never told you, after all.
I never told you how I really felt.
“And you?” he asked quietly.
“What did you want?”“Safety,” she said immediately.
“A safe place, for me and my baby.
That’s all. I never expected this.
I never thought you’d marry me.
I didn’t ask for it.”“You didn’t have to,” he said wearily.
“And you didn’t trap me or trick me or anything else, Lacey, for God’s sake.
If I had to do it all over again I would.”“Why?”
Because I love you.
Because I want you.
Because you excite me just by being in the same fucking room.
Because I could drown in your eyes and your soul and your beauty and count myself lucky.
“Because it was the right thing to do.”“The
right thing,” she echoed flatly.
“Yeah, well, I’m doing the right thing now, okay?”“By working for that - that
creep?”She turned away again with a sigh, her hair hiding the curve of her cheek once more, and a needle of suspicion sank into him, stabbing at his brain.“Lacey,” he said evenly.
“Will you look at me, please?”A slight stiffening of her body, an involuntary twitch.
He had been watching for it, and he nodded grimly.“Look at me,” he said sternly.“Please,” she said, her voice shaking.

“Please go.”It took him two strides to reach her, but Lacey turned before he could touch her, chin raised defiantly, eyes flashing at him above a large, purple swelling on her jaw where the scarf had fallen down.
She was biting her lower lip to stop it from trembling, and he felt rage burst within him.“Right,” he said softly.
“I’ll fucking kill him.”“Don’t - don’t do anything stupid…” she said wearily.He turned on his heel, anger boiling inside him.“Rafe, for God’s sake—”He wrenched open the kitchen door, striding to the lounge and snagging his jacket from the couch on his way to the door.
Dead.
He’s a fucking dead man.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

It had started to rain again, and Weaver turned up the collar of his jacket to keep the worst of it from going down his back, raindrops drumming against his shoulders and the top of his head.
He walked swiftly, taking the back-alley route to the bar where Lacey had worked for a brief time when he had first known her. The Rabbit Hole was a dump, in his opinion: a fetid two-room bar that attracted the worst that Seattle could boast.
He had been part of several raids on the place over the years, arresting drug dealers, bottom-tier organised crime lowlifes and, on one occasion, a developing people-trafficking operation.
It was the kind of establishment where one could pay for a week of drug-fuelled oblivion or take out a hit on someone, and no one drinking in there would bat an eyelid. In short, it was the last place he wanted Lacey to set foot in.The guy who ran the place had a record of petty crimes and misdemeanours as long as any he’d seen, but as far as Weaver knew he had never been implicated in anything major.
Garrett was a thug: lumbering, dark-haired and what was no doubt considered good-looking, but a thug nonetheless. A wannabe gangster who had neither the balls nor the intelligence to make a go of things, so relied on the strength and cunning of others to make his way.
Scum, and Weaver had put him in jail on several occasions. He’d put him in the hospital once, too, and Lacey’s bruises pretty much guaranteed that would be happening again.The bar was empty when he got there, apart from Garrett, leaning on the bar with a glass of beer in front of him and a silent, dark-haired man mopping the floor by the pool table.
The cleaner took one look at Weaver and walked quickly through to the back. Weaver watched him go with narrowed eyes, but then turned his attention to the man at the bar, and walked over, flexing his hands.
Garrett smirked at him.“Well, if it isn’t Detective Weaver, scourge of the underworld,” he drawled, leaning back from the bar.
“You’re wasting your time here. Clean as a whistle, I promise you. No one deals drugs in the men’s room anymore, not since the last time you tore the place apart.
Decided I don’t like troublemakers.”“Oh, I’m not here about your clientèle,” said Weaver.
“I’m here about Lacey. I hear she’s been working for you.”Garrett eyed him for a moment, then shrugged, picking up his glass and taking a gulp.“She does a few shifts, yeah,” he said.
“Guys spend more money if there’s a nice piece of ass serving them, you know?”Weaver’s anger, burning white-hot like erupting lava when he left her apartment, had lowered to a seething, roiling pool of liquid fire, a deep orange glow in the depths of his belly.
He was mentally tallying everything offensive the man said and did. Keeping score for when the time came.“I find it hard to believe she’d return here after four years,” he said, his voice calm.
“So I want to know what it is you’re holding over her.”“Who says I’m holding anything?”“Call it a hunch,” he said evenly.Garrett rolled his eyes.“Look, she says you broke up,” he said, in a bored voice.
“Why do you care?”“She’s still my wife.”“Yeah, so I heard,” Garrett grinned, showing white teeth.
“Tricked you into knocking her up, did she? Gotta say, that was the opposite of a shocker.
The vice cop and the cheap whore—”Rage was needling him, a tingle of fire caressing his brain and filling his body with heat that wanted to flare out and burn the man to ash in front of him.“—although I’m surprised you married her,” Garrett went on.
“You should have just paid the bitch to get rid of the kid. Turned you soft, did she?”Weaver smiled, baring his teeth, before grabbing a handful of the man’s hair and shoving his face down onto the bar with a crunching of bone and glass and a splash of cheap beer.
Garrett screamed in pain, and Weaver yanked him upright again, blood pouring from his nose as he staggered back. Slivers of broken glass were stuck into his cheeks and forehead, and Weaver tightened his grip on Garrett’s hair, twisting it as he leaned in close.“Soft enough for you, fuckface?” he hissed.“You bastard!”“Oh, I’m just getting started!” he rasped.
“Please, talk about my wife some more. Let’s see how many of your bones I can break before you learn to shut the fuck up!”“This is police brutality!”
Garrett had grabbed his nose with both hands, blood pouring over his fingers and pieces of glass tinkling to the bar as they fell.“You got that right.”
Weaver reached between his legs, grasping his balls and squeezing, and Garrett rose up on his toes with a high-pitched whine.
“And if you ever, ever lay a hand on Lacey again, I’m gonna cut your fucking balls off and fucking feed them to you, do you understand?”He let go, lip curling in disgust as Garrett dropped like a stone, and headed for the door, hearing the strangled groan from behind him.
She’s not fucking going back there.
I don’t fucking care if she chews me out over it. “Not my fault!”Garrett’s voice was a hoarse whisper, and Weaver sighed, rolling his eyes.“What the fuck are you talking about?” he demanded, turning on his heels.“Wasn’t me, okay?”Weaver hesitated, then walked slowly back to where Garrett was lying with his hands jammed between his legs, his face still covered in blood, eyes squinting.“Alright, he said evenly.
“Who was it?”Garrett was silent, and Weaver leaned in close, lips drawing up over his teeth in a snarl.“Did I not almost kill you enough?”Garrett shook his head vehemently, eyes wide, and Weaver straightened up, stepping back.
He’d seen that sort of look before. The look that said that to talk was more than the person’s life was worth.
What the hell had she gotten herself into?Swearing under his breath, he headed for the door.
The rain was falling harder, and he moved quickly through the silent backstreets, threading his way past fire escapes and dumpsters, eyes flicking back and forth as shadows shifted in the glow from the nearby streetlights.
It was a relief to get back into the apartment building, and he shook the water from himself, running a hand through his hair as he took the stairs two at a time. Lacey answered the door almost immediately at his knock. It looked as though she had taken a shower, her hair damp and shining and a robe on over loose black pants and a lace-trimmed vest.
Her eyes were wide and frightened, but she relaxed a little when she saw him, and his mouth set in a thin line. She was scared when I came to the door earlier, and I didn’t fucking think anything of it. He nodded to her curtly, and pushed past, heading for the kitchen.
Lacey locked the door, following him through and shutting the kitchen door behind her.
He had crossed to the sink to wash the blood from his hands, and could feel her watching him.“What did you do?” she asked warily.“Broke his fucking nose,” snapped Weaver.
“What did you think would happen?”“Jesus…”He smiled without humour, rinsing quickly and turning off the water.“Yeah, interestingly enough, he claims not to be the one that hit you.”
He dried his hands on a dish towel, turning to face her. “Even more interestingly, I actually believe the wanker.
So who was it?”Lacey had pressed herself against the door, fingers spread, her eyes as wide and scared as Garrett’s had been.
He tossed the dish towel aside, stepping forward.“Lacey,” he said sharply.
“Who hit you?”She shook her head.“For fuck’s sake, would you just tell me?”“It doesn’t matter.”“Of course it fucking matters!” he snapped.
“If someone’s threatening you I need to know about it.
You’re here alone with Tilly, for God’s sake!”“You seriously think I’d put her in danger?” she demanded, hands on hips.
“I’d never do that!”“But you’d put yourself in danger?” he countered.
“You think your safety doesn’t matter, is that it?”She glowered at him, and he ran a hand through his hair, frustrated.“Don’t tell me we’re going down this road again,” he said
“I thought we got past all that! I don’t want to hear a single fucking thing about how you deserved it, alright?”He waited for her to speak, and when she didn’t, he took another step forward.“Who did it?”“I can’t tell you!” she blurted.“What do you mean, you can’t tell me?” he demanded.
“Can’t or won’t?”Lacey bit her lip, her eyes huge, brimming with tears, and he shook his head.“Are you in trouble?”She shook her head mutely.“Are you lying to me?”“Please,” she whispered.
“Please, just leave it. I’ll handle it, I promise.”Weaver ran his hands over his face, trying to calm himself.“Alright,” he said quietly.
“You said you need money. How much?”“I told you, I don’t want anything more from you.”“Would you stop that?” he said sharply.
“If you’re in trouble, I want to help. You’re still my wife.”“Not if you sign the damn papers like I asked instead of fucking interrogating me!” she spat.He reached forward, hands splayed on the wall to either side of her, leaning in close until his forehead almost brushed hers, and Lacey licked her lips somewhat nervously.
She met his eyes with her chin raised and chest heaving, cold and distant and beautiful. She was trying to make him angry, he could feel it. Trying to make him storm out. He wished he knew why, but he doubted she would tell him, and so he took his frustration and anger and pushed it down into his belly, a low, burning pain.
Lacey was watching him, her lips full and shining from the swift pass of her tongue, her breath cool on his skin. Her eyes flicked to his mouth and back up, and he shoved away the rush of desire he felt, the urge to kiss her. Not the time. Would never be the time again, he imagined. Fuck, he missed her!“I’m trying to help you,” he said evenly.“You always are,” she said, her voice trembling a little.
“You always have, and I can’t stand it anymore, okay?
I don’t - I don’t need your help!
I don’t need anything from you.”He felt her hands at his waist, thumbs resting on his belt beneath the edge of the leather jacket.
Desire was rising in him, the product of three months of bewilderment and loneliness after she asked him to leave, three months of longing to touch her and holding back.
This was the closest they had been in all that time, and he touched his forehead to hers, hearing a sharp intake of breath from her, her fingers sliding up his sides a little.“Don’t you?” he growled.Her breathing had quickened, her chest rising and falling beneath the vest she wore, and his nose brushed hers, his heart thudding in his chest.
He could feel the tension between them, static in the air making his hair lift and his skin tingle, and Lacey angled her head a little, letting her nose brush against his again.
Her eyes had flicked up to meet his, her pupils wide and dark, and he could feel himself begin to swell in his jeans, need for her burning through him. He should go, before she could tell him to leave.
Before she could push him away and break his heart all over again. He should really, really go.Lacey kissed him messily, her mouth hot and hungry, her lips pushing his apart, and he let out a low groan of pleasure at the taste of her, one hand sinking into her hair, his body pressing against hers as her hands slid around him.
His tongue pushed into her mouth, and she let out a tiny moan, hands slipping out from around him, pushing at his jacket, dragging it from his shoulders. He pushed back from her, breaking the kiss, and let his arms fall, the jacket slipping to the floor.
Lacey was tugging at his belt, her breathing ragged as she got it open, and he kissed her again, groaning as her hands slid up his chest and into his hair, twisting and tugging as his tongue stroked hers.His hands cupped her, her breasts firm in his palms, and he pulled his mouth from hers and kissed down her throat, tongue swirling over her skin.
Lacey let her head roll back with a moan as he bit down, and he reached up, pushing beneath the shoulders of her robe and pulling it down her arms.
She let it fall, and he slipped his thumbs beneath the straps of her vest, tugging it down, baring her breasts for his mouth. Her nipples were hard and dark, and he sucked one in between his lips, feeling her fingers scrape his scalp, sending shivers through him.His hands slid down her sides, thumbs hooking beneath the waistband of her pants and pushing them over her hips.
They fell around her ankles, and Lacey lifted one pale leg after the other, stepping out of them. He kissed lower, sliding to his knees, his mouth trailing over her belly, and she inhaled sharply as his hands pushed her thighs apart.
He could smell the scent of her, the faint smell of herbal shower gel still on her skin, the heady musk of arousal drifting into his nose. His lips sucked at the soft flesh of her mound, and Lacey let out a moan as his fingers slid upwards, splaying against her thighs, his thumbs gently parting her folds as he put his mouth to her.She let out a low cry at the touch of his tongue, and he swept it through her hot flesh, tasting salt.
Her fingers twisted in his hair, her body undulating as he licked her. It was so good to taste her again, to bury his face in the heat and scent of her.
He wanted to take her to bed and spend all night with her, as he had on many an occasion before she had decided it was over. He wanted to slide inside her and feel her come all around him, to swallow her moan of pleasure when they kissed, to have her rake furrows in his shoulders and leave bite marks on his chest.His hands dipped between her legs and slid up behind to grasp her rear, squeezing, pulling her tight against him as his tongue stabbed and swirled.
Lacey groaned, and he pushed at her thigh with one arm, her leg lifting and sliding over his shoulder, allowing him to devour her. He could hear her breath coming hard in her chest, almost whistling, tiny whimpers coming from her, and he scraped the flat of his tongue over her clit, feeling the hardness of it, making her jerk against his mouth.
Her nails scratched his scalp as she let out a moan, and he growled low in his throat, feeling her body tense, knowing she was close.She came with a cry, her hips bucking, and his fingers dug into the soft flesh of her rear as he groaned in pleasure.
Hot fluid bathed his tongue, and he licked it from her, spreading her scent on his skin as he tasted her. Her legs were trembling, and he let her find her feet again, pressing kisses to her wet flesh before sitting back on his heels and rising up.
Lacey was breathing hard, her body leaning back against the wall, head hanging, and he slipped a finger under her chin, raising her head to face him and kissing her hard. She grasped at his shirt, tugging him close with a moan, and he reached between her legs, fingers stroking over soft folds slippery with his saliva.
He slid two fingers inside her, growling at the feel of her, hot and silky-wet, and Lacey let her head roll back against the wall with a dull thud, her fingers scrabbling at the buttons of his shirt. She got it open, and he let his fingers slip from her, shrugging it off and leaving himself in vest and jeans, a thick chain of silver links she had bought him around his wrist, matching the one around his neck.
Lacey ran her eyes over him, her lips full and wet from their kisses, her chest heaving. She caught his eyes with hers, and licked her lips.“Bed!” she whispered.She kissed him again, her tongue pushing into his mouth, her nails scoring him through the vest as she raked them down his chest.
He growled at the sudden, sharp pain, grasping her wrists and pushing her back against the wall, pressing his body to hers. Lacey let out a cry as he sank his teeth into her neck, and he released her wrists, reaching between her legs again, his fingers pushing deep inside her, thumb rubbing over her clit.
She moaned, sliding her arms around him, and he licked up her neck, his mouth finding hers as his fingers thrust inside her, hard and fast, his thumb flicking and circling. She came again with tiny, desperate moans, her body soft against his, her cheeks flushed and damp, and he let his fingers slide out of her, slippery with her juices.She was breathless, her lips wet and soft, the same deep pink as her sex.
Her eyes flickered open, and he held her gaze as he slipped his fingers into his mouth, sucking her cum from them.
Lacey licked her lips, swallowing hard.“Bed,” she said again.
“Take me to bed.”He bent, sliding an arm behind her thighs and swinging her up into his arms, and Lacey twined her arms around his neck, pressing hungry kisses along his jaw as he wrenched open the kitchen door and carried her to the bedroom.
It would solve nothing, he knew that. It wasn’t as though taking her to bed and fucking her hard would make things better between them. But there again he had had a lifetime of making things worse, and he had missed her so much it hurt.
If it all blew up in his face, at least he would have one last night with her.
At least they could have this.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Lacey tried to catch her breath as she bounced on the bed, hands splaying out to steady herself, and Weaver shut the bedroom door behind him, bending to unlace his boots and kick them off.
The black top she had been wearing was bunched around her waist, and so she peeled it off and tossed it aside, lying back against the pillows naked. It would be the first time they had had sex in over three months, and she was desperate for his touch, to feel him on top of her, his familiar weight pressing down on her as he pushed deep.
The very thought of it made her breathing quicken, and she licked her lips as she watched him unfasten his jeans, the firm muscles of his chest pushing out the vest he wore, light glinting on the thick chain around his neck.She reached for him, and he climbed onto the bed, his mouth finding hers as he pushed her onto her back.
His kisses were hard and hungry, feeling as desperate as she, and she slid her hands up his back beneath the vest, pushing it up beneath his arms, wanting to feel every bit of his skin against hers.
He groaned into her mouth, breaking the kiss as he knelt up to tug the vest over his head, the chain bouncing against his collar bones with a faint clink. He was hard, his cock tenting the front of his boxers, and she slipped her thumbs beneath the waistband, tugging them down over his hips.
She lay back as he wriggled out of them, his hands sliding up her thighs and pushing them apart as he turned back to her.He was breathing hard, his chest heaving, but his eyes caught hers, dark with desire.
There was an unspoken question in them, and it made her want to cry. Even now, he would take nothing from her that she didn’t wholeheartedly want to give him.
He was a good man, whether he believed it or not. A truly good man. Far better than she had ever deserved. She nodded curtly, and he slipped a hand between her legs, fingers stroking against soft folds of flesh as he felt how wet she was.
A low growl of pleasure rumbled out of him, vibrating through her body and making her moan with need.
Two fingers slipped inside her, pushing up to the knuckles, and she arched her back, hands sliding up his chest, thumbs rubbing over his nipples and making him gasp.The fingers slid out of her with a slick, wet sound, and she could feel him take himself in hand, spreading her juices, pressing up against her.
He pushed slowly into her with a deep, guttural groan, and Lacey moaned, raising her body up to press against his, drawing up her knees to let him sink deep.
He was moving slowly, thrusting in and out of her, savouring the feel of her, but it wasn’t enough.
She wanted him to take her, hard and fast. She wanted him to fuck her.
Lifting her hips, she pushed against him, quickening the pace, and he followed her lead, his cock hard inside her, his hands sliding up her body to cup her breasts. Lacey moaned, raising her head to draw her tongue up his neck to his ear.“Harder,” she whispered, her breath blooming out, hot against her lips, against his skin.
“Fuck me harder!”He growled in response, his hands sliding up her arms, grasping her wrists and pushing them down into the pillows, and she gasped as he slammed into her, grinding against her, the sensations beginning to build inside her as he thrust.
His teeth sank into her neck, his tongue sweeping over her skin to soothe the bite, swirling against her pulse point and sending shivers coursing through her. Sweat was forming between them, their skin slippery where her breasts pushed against his chest, and she bent her head to lick the perspiration from him, the flat of her tongue running over the taut peak of his nipple before sucking it into her mouth.He let out a groan of pleasure, thrusting inside her, his cock thick and rigid, his limbs growing taut as the tension grew, as he worked towards climax.
She wrapped her legs around him, holding him tight, and he released one of her wrists, arm sliding down between them and hooking behind her knee to pull it higher.
Lacey let out a cry as he thrust deep into her, the feel of it almost painful, the head of his cock rubbing against her. “Fuck!” he gasped, his jaw tight with the strain of it.She moaned, fingers pushing into his hair, nails scraping his scalp as he rocked against her.
His movements were small now, as though he couldn’t bear to pull out of her even an inch, his hips twitching as he increased the pace.
It felt incredible, his cock buried deep within her, nothing between them but heat and wetness and the coarse feel of his hair against her clit.
She could feel the sensations building, the wave of bliss rising up through her body, and she whimpered, eyes closed, hips bucking against him to increase the friction.
He was close, so close, and she wanted to fall with him, wanted him to take them both over the edge, as he had so many times.He thrust into her with a low groan of pleasure, his cock pulsing, and Lacey pumped against him, crying out as she came, her flesh clenching hard and pulling hot seed from him, drawing it deep.
The blood was pounding in her head, her heart thumping as she moaned and writhed and clung to him, and he slipped and thrust and poured himself into her until he was spent and shaking. His head dropped, face pushing into the hollow between her neck and shoulder, his body heaving as he tried to catch his breath.
She held him tight, fingers stroking through damp hair, breathing in the scent of him, her skin tingling with the aftermath of her pleasure.After a long moment he pushed up a little, sliding his arm out from beneath her leg and reaching up with both hands to cup her face.
Gentle fingers, still damp with her juices, brushed strands of hair from hot cheeks, and Lacey’s eyes fluttered open as he pressed his forehead to hers, his breath coming hard in his chest.
His eyes were dark and deep, and there was a tenderness in them that she could hardly bear to witness.
He was too good, and she hated that she was hurting him.He didn’t say anything, for which she was grateful, just kissed her with soft, warm lips, his tongue sliding in to stroke against hers as he began to shrink inside her.
He was smiling a little as he pulled back, his brow pressing against hers once more, and then he slipped out of her, rolling off and spooning up behind her to press kisses along her shoulder.
Lacey hugged herself, as though by that motion she would keep a part of him with her, and his lips brushed her ear.“I miss you,” he whispered, and she squeezed her eyes shut, tears stinging.
I miss you too.
“I know I was the one who offered to give you some space,” he went on.
“And I meant it, Lacey, I did. Even if I didn’t understand why.
But I miss you.
I miss Tilly.”
I know.
God, I never wanted to hurt you!
That’s the last thing I wanted!
“I guess I don’t need to understand it,” he went on.
“I just want you to be happy. You and Tilly both. And if that means that you and I don’t have a future together, then - then that’s how things will be.”There was silence for a moment.
She didn’t want to break it, but she could sense his pain and confusion, and it made her want to cry.“I just—”
He cut off with a sigh, and pressed a kiss to her shoulder.
“I know there’s something going on. Something you don’t feel you can tell me.” No no no no no!
She wanted to shake her head, her heart thumping.
She needed him to leave. She needed him to go before she broke down crying in his arms and told him everything.
His fingers stroked against her skin, gentle and soothing, and she felt tears well in her eyes.“Lacey…”
He hesitated, seemingly unsure of what to say.
“Look, would you talk to me? I can’t help if I don’t know what the problem is.”“I don’t want your help,” she said suddenly, almost wanting to jump at the sound of her own voice.
“How many times do I have to tell you? We broke up, remember?”His hand tightened on her waist.“Then will you tell me why I’m trying to get my bloody breath back after fucking you like it was my last night on earth?” he snapped, and she hunched her shoulders, drawing in on herself.“Doesn’t mean anything,” she said.
“We both wanted it, and now it’s done.
You can go.”As dismissive and hurtful as she had meant them to be, she hated the words as soon as they left her mouth, and he growled in anger, reaching up to grasp her shoulder and pull her onto her back to face him.“What the hell has you too fucking scared to talk to me?” he demanded.
“Who is it?
Who’s threatening you?”“No one,” she said obstinately.
“I told you, it’s nothing.”“Yeah, well I’m telling you that’s a fucking pile of old shite, and we both know it!” he spat.His accent always thickened when he was angry, just as it did when he was aroused, and despite herself she could her need for him flare to life once more.
They had been apart too long, both trying for strained politeness for Tilly’s sake. Separation had been the only way she had thought she could be strong enough to do what she had to, and it had been a relief when he had tentatively suggested it.
She thought she might never forget the stricken look on his face when she agreed, and asked him to leave. It had been there a moment only before he had nodded and gone to pack some things, and she had managed to hold it together long enough to close the door behind him.
God, she had missed him!“There doesn’t have to be some sinister motive, you know,” she said.
“Sometimes these things just don’t work out. Lots of marriages end. What makes us so special?
Not as though we had a bloody auspicious start, is it?”“Stop trying to choke me with this fucking bullshit!” he growled.
“You start back at the Rabbit Hole out of the fucking blue?
Someone hits you and that fucking blowhard Garrett’s too scared to talk about it?
I’ve interviewed far better liars than you, Lacey!
You must think I spend all day with my head up my arse!”He was glaring down at her, dark eyes flashing, and she raised her chin, meeting fire with fire.“You think if you bang me hard enough, I’ll tell you what you want to hear?” she demanded.
“Interesting interrogation technique, Detective!”“Would you stop that?” he snapped.
“You’re not a bloody witness, you’re my wife!”“Yeah, well, I’ve told you it’s over!”“Aye, really fucking looks like it!” he spat.
“Is this how we are now? Friends with fucking benefits or something?
I come over whenever you have an itch that needs scratching?”“Didn’t hear you complaining,” she said sullenly.
“Got what you wanted, didn’t you?”Weaver opened his mouth for what looked like an angry retort, but then closed it again, looking away and taking a deep breath, nostrils flaring.“No,” he said, more calmly.
“What I want is for you to be honest with me.”“Yeah, well, I want you to use that mouth to make me come!” she hissed.
“Just shut up and fuck me!”His eyes widened in surprise, and she kissed him hungrily, hands sliding into his hair and pulling his head down on hers.
He groaned, tongue pushing into her mouth, hands sliding up to cup her breasts, and Lacey slid a hand down between them to grasp his cock, still sticky with her fluids and already starting to harden again. He began kissing down her neck, his tongue swirling over her skin as he wriggled lower, and she closed her eyes with a sigh, wanting as much of him as he could give her.
If this was to be their final time, she wanted it to last.xLacey swam out of sleep, her body warm and loose and aching in the most wonderful of ways.
She smiled lazily, memories of the previous night filling her head and, for the briefest of moments, allowing her to forget her pain and loss and heartbreak.
She slid a hand across the mattress, reaching for her husband, but found only cold sheets. Eyes flicking open, she looked around the room, then pushed up on her hands into a sitting position.
She could hear a faint noise from the lounge: the television playing something cheerfully noisy, and so she slipped from the bed, sighing as she saw that it was just after seven. Pulling on a clean pair of PJs, she ran a hand through her tangled curls and went out into the lounge.Tilly looked up from her position, cross-legged in front of the TV with Dragon on her lap.
There was no sign of Weaver, and Lacey felt her heart sink a little. She told herself firmly that it was for the best, and bent to kiss Tilly’s head.“Hey, sweetie,” she said.
“You want some breakfast? I could make you pancakes.
Special treat, how about it?”“I want Daddy to make them,” said Tilly.“Oh.”
Lacey glanced around the empty apartment.
“Daddy had to go to work, okay baby?”“Catching bad men,” said Tilly decidedly, and Lacey smiled.“Yeah,” she said.
“Your Daddy’s a hero, which means he’s very busy out there fighting crime, okay?
How about I make you the pancakes instead?”“Daddy makes funny shapes,” said Tilly, eyeing her with what Lacey was sure was a heavy dose of doubt in her pancake-making skills.“Well, I can try to do that,” she agreed.
“You want blueberries on ‘em?”“Yeah!”“Okay then.”She went through to the kitchen, bending to pick up her discarded robe and the pants she had left behind.
She pulled on the robe, tugging it closed and looping the belt around her waist. Coffee. She’d feel better after some coffee.
She crossed to the sink to fill the kettle, flicking it on and reaching for the cups, and spied something out of the corner of her eye.
A thick sheaf of papers with a pen resting on top. Heart thumping, she reached out to them, fingers grasping the edge and pulling them towards her.
The divorce papers. She licked her lips nervously, flicking through them, and sank back on her heels as her heart felt as though it had fallen into her stomach, a cold, dull weight.
His signature was there, a looping scrawl of black ink on the crisp white page. Tears welled in her eyes, and she leaned on the counter, her head hanging. He had signed. He had given her what she had asked for.
Just as he always did.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Three years and eight months earlier
Seven-thirty in the evening, and already he’d had to deal with some idiot who thought that assaulting a police officer was a fucking stellar idea.
Weaver rubbed his knuckles to ease the ache in them, scowling as he thought of the paperwork he’d have to go through before Lieutenant Drake would be happy. He eyed the half-empty bottle of whisky in his desk drawer, briefly considered pouring himself one, and dismissed the idea almost immediately.
There were still two and a half hours until his shift was over. More if he got called out on something. Best to keep a clear head. Coffee would be better.He slammed the drawer shut and flipped open one of the new files that had been dumped on his desk, curling his lip at the contents.
Reports of two black men seen hanging around the entrance to a youth centre. The person who had called it in suspected them of dealing drugs, and there were grainy photos provided.
Weaver didn’t need to look in detail at the pictures to know who the individuals were: two ex-gang members who called themselves Merlin and Lancelot. They ran basketball and martial arts programs for underprivileged kids, trying with some success to keep them away from the gang lifestyle that plagued some of the neighbourhoods.
Growling under his breath, he wrote how many fucking times, these are the good guys! across the front of the file, and tossed it into the tray of cases to be processed.“Weaver?”A voice made him look up, and Detective Fa raised a slim black eyebrow at him.“Visitor for you."“Who is it?” he asked absently, opening the next file.“Thought it might be one of your informants,” she said.
“Nervous and pretending not to be. Name of French. Said it’s urgent and she’ll only speak to you, or I would have dealt with it.
I put her in room two.”“Thanks,” he said, a sinking feeling in his belly.
French. Well. Could be coincidence, but I doubt it. Fa had hurried off, and so he pushed back his chair, taking up a notebook and pencil out of habit and making his way to interview room two.
How long had it been since he had seen Lacey French?
Four months, perhaps? He had assumed she had left town long ago; she always had said that she didn’t like to stay in one place too long.Lacey looked up as he entered the room, and he tried not to let any emotion show in his face.
He was used to that, after all. She was as beautiful as ever, but there was something else there.
An air of sadness, of hopelessness, darkening her blue eyes. She was bundled up against the winter night in a woollen pea coat, a scarf wound around her throat.
Her skirt was still ridiculously short, but she appeared to have swapped bare legs and high heels for thick tights and chunky boots, at least. She looked a little thinner around the face, and he tried to squash the sudden, overwhelming urge to take her home and feed her something that didn’t come from a dumpster.
That was how this entire farce had started, after all.He pulled out a chair, sitting down opposite her, and dropping his pad and pencil on the table.
Lacey was fidgeting, plucking at the skin of one hand with her finger and thumb, teeth tugging at her lower lip.
She wouldn’t quite look at him, as though she were ashamed. Not like her at all. It was intriguing.“Lacey,” he said calmly.
“I haven’t seen you since—”“Since I snuck out of your apartment at two in the morning?” she interjected.
“Yeah. Sorry about that. Not exactly the stay-and-cuddle type.”“Well, neither am I,” he said coolly.
“So perhaps we can move on to the present.
Why are you here?”She finally met his eyes, her gaze frightened, hunted, but then looked down at her hands again.
Her nails were bitten, dark red polish chipped and flaking.“This was a mistake,” she muttered.
“I should go.”She sat back, eyeing the door, and he shook his head.“You came here for a reason,” he said patiently.
“I’m assuming it’s important, or you wouldn’t be here, right?”She bit her lip, trembling as she sat there, and he wondered what had her so scared.
It must be something big, to bring her back to him. Perhaps she had a lead on the Neverland gang that had been flooding the streets with meth.
He tried again, more gently.“Do you have some information for me?” he asked.
“If so, we can always take this conversation elsewhere. Somewhere you’d feel more comfortable talking to me.”Lacey looked up at him, her eyes flashing. “Information?” she snapped.
“What, you thought I came here to rat on someone?”“I’ve no idea,” he said, his patience fleeing.
“But I haven’t got all bloody day, so what is it?
You got something to tell me or not?”“Police business,” she said, her voice thick with derision.
“Was that all I bloody was to you? Is that the only reason you think I’d be back?”“Well, I’m hardly likely to think you came here to pick up where we fucking left off, am I?” he retorted, matching her tone.
“If you’re not here for payment, what the hell is it?”“I’m pregnant!” she blurted.
“Seventeen weeks. I just - I thought you should know.”He gaped at her, his heart beginning to thump painfully hard, shock stealing his breath, his voice.
Lacey gave him an agonised look, then pushed out of the chair, quick as a scared cat, and lunged for the door, wrenching it open and disappearing before he could move.For a moment he was frozen in place, her words echoing around his head, but then some natural instinct to pursue took over, and he leapt out of the chair, ducking into the corridor and racing after her.
He almost sent Officer Dunbroch flying, and she yelled after him that he was a stupid bastard. He supposed she wasn’t fucking wrong.There was no sign of Lacey in the entrance, but he knew she would have fled without looking back, and so he raced out into the street and glanced around, catching sight of her flashing feet and rippling hair in the distance.
He set off after her, cursing the precious moments he had spent sitting on his arse while she took off.

Pregnant.
She’s fucking pregnant.
What the fuck are you gonna do about this, then, you bloody idiot? “Lacey!” he shouted.
“Lacey, wait!”She slowed to a jog and then to a stop, head hanging, and he drew level with her, breath leaving his body in clouds of white as he caught his breath.
Lacey hunched her shoulders, the sleeves of her sweater falling down over her hands beneath the coat, as though it was several sizes too big for her. She looked like an urchin, cold, lost and scared, and he wanted to put an arm around her, to hold her close and tell her everything was going to be alright.
The lie would do as well for him as for her.“Hey,” he said lamely.
“I - uh - it looks as though we need to talk.”“Yeah,” she whispered.She looked thoroughly miserable, lower lip protruding a little, eyes focused somewhere on the ground at his feet.
He scratched the back of his head, feeling out of his depth, and not liking it.

She’s pregnant.
Get her out of the fucking cold, you numpty! “Here,” he said, trying to keep his voice gentle, as though she was a wild animal, nervous and about to bolt.
“Let’s - let’s get you in the warm, hmm? Granny’s is nearby - perhaps some coffee?”“Not supposed to drink it,” she said gloomily.
“Makes me queasy.”“Ah.”
Shit.
What the hell do I know about caring for bloody pregnant women?
Nothing, that’s what. Fucking useless!

“Uh - hot chocolate?”Lacey raised her eyes then, nodding cautiously, and he put a hand on the small of her back, steering her towards the diner.
She moved with shuffling feet, as though she was reluctant to be with him. Given the circumstances, he supposed he could understand it.
He opened the door for her, a warm bubble of coffee and cinnamon scented air wrapping around them and pulling them inside. The diner was relatively quiet, and they found an empty table, Lacey sliding in across from him as Weaver ordered black coffee for himself, and a hot chocolate with everything for her.“You want anything to eat?” he asked.She looked longingly at the cakes on the counter, but shook her head.
She always had found it difficult to accept things from him, even down to a fucking piece of cake, but he ordered a chocolate brownie anyway, pretending it was for him.
The waitress jotted down their order and hurried off, and he leaned on the table, lacing his fingers together. Lacey was shifting uncomfortably, plucking at the sleeve of her sweater, her teeth chewing nervously on her lower lip as she glanced up at him.“Right,” he said, wishing that he knew what the hell he was doing.
“So. Uh - you’re pregnant?”She nodded, mouth flattening, as though she was about to cry.“Okay,” he said.
“Well, I’m assuming you wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t mine.”Lacey glared at him, blue eyes flashing, and he nodded.“Yeah, shouldn’t have asked.
Sorry.”She shrugged, and the fire left her eyes again, doused by fear and hopelessness.
He tried to think of something else to say.“Did you say seventeen weeks?”“Well, that was the last time I saw you,” she said dryly.“Yeah.”He squeezed his fingers together, feeling awkward.
The sounds in the diner seemed unnaturally loud, the clink of cutlery and the clash of plates making him flinch.
There was a strange ringing in his ears, and he felt disconnected, as though he was in someone else’s body. Another man had received the news that he was going to be a father.
Another man was speaking with a surprisingly calm voice, trying to make the mother of his child feel better. Trying and failing.“Uh - how are you feeling?” he asked, and Lacey looked up at him incredulously.“How am I feeling?” she snapped.
“I’m exhausted and fucking terrified, okay?”“Right,” he said hurriedly.
“I just meant - you’re not sick?”“Had the whole morning sickness thing,” she said, and shrugged.
“Better than it was, thank God. Couldn’t keep anything down for a couple of months.”“Right,” he said, hating the hollow sound of his voice.
“And - and the baby? It’s okay?”“Yeah,” she said wearily, sitting back.
“Yeah, the baby’s fine. So they told me, anyway.
Got the pregnancy test, swore a lot, got a bunch of advice on what to do and what not to drink...
Tough to pay for care when you don’t have a steady job, though. Thank God for Planned Parenthood, right?”“Right,” he said again, wanting to hit himself in the face with something.
“Well, that’s something I can help with, at least. Tests - uh - ultrasounds.
I’ll help, I promise. Whatever you need.”The waitress returned, setting down his coffee and her hot chocolate, the mug topped with whipped cream and marshmallows, a chocolate flake sticking out of it.
A plate containing a large, sticky brownie went between them, and Weaver pushed it towards her a little, hoping she’d eat it. Lacey pulled the flake from her mug, slipping it into her mouth and sucking off the cream before using it to stir her hot chocolate.
There was melted chocolate on her fingers, and she licked it off, her eyes meeting his.“Whatever I need?” she asked.
“What does that mean?”Weaver took a deep breath, trying to sound as though he had some sort of fucking control over his life, despite feeling as though he was spiralling into oblivion.
She didn’t need to know he was barely keeping a lid on his panic. She needed him to be there for her. As she had once been there for him.“Well, for a start, it means you move back in with me,” he said.
“You can’t live on the bloody streets when you’re pregnant. I can’t believe you didn’t come to me earlier.”Lacey was silent for a moment, fingers opening and closing around the mug, but she nodded.“Okay,” she said cautiously.
“I could do that.”“We can put the baby in your old room,” he added.
“It’ll fit a crib and a changing mat and whatever else we might need.
A playpen, I guess. I can dismantle your old bed, stand it against the wall while the baby’s small, and when it gets old enough for a bed, we’ll have one, right?”His mind was racing, thoughts scampering through his brain, to be picked up and discarded as he tried to decide on the best course of action to take.
He thought he knew what that was, but was unsure whether she would agree. Lacey eyed him for a moment as she sipped her hot chocolate. There was cream on her lips when she lowered the mug, and she licked it off.“So,” she said, sitting back a little.
“When you say ‘move back in’, you mean - not like we were before?
You mean - you mean like a couple?”“Yeah.”
He tapped his fingers together restlessly, and blurted: “I think we should get married.”Lacey almost choked on her drink, whipped cream splattering the tabletop, and she blinked at him incredulously.
“What?”
“We should get married,” he repeated.There was a moment of stunned silence, and she shook her head.“You can’t be serious.”“No, I am,” he insisted.The more he thought about it, the more it seemed to make perfect sense.
She was homeless, after all, and although she was adept at looking after herself on the streets, he doubted it was what she wanted for their baby.
She needed security, a place to call her own, confidence that he wouldn’t just walk away and leave her and the child to fend for themselves. He could offer her that.
Commitment. It wasn’t as though they didn’t get along; he liked her very much, and he was reasonably sure she liked him. Maybe not romantically, but there were successful marriages built on far less than mutual affection, and they had that.
Surely they had that, at least. She was staring at him, and he tried to outline his thinking, to sell her the idea.“Children need stability, right?” he said.
“And the life of a cop - well, it has its dangers.”“I guess,” she said, looking suspicious.“Well, I never had to think about what might happen if I didn’t come home one night,” he explained.
“It would have been somebody else’s fucking problem if I got myself shot. But now I have a child on the way, I need to start planning ahead.
This way, I’d be sure that you’d be looked after, if anything happened to me. Both of you. You’d be safe. You’d have money. A place to stay. The Police Department would make sure you were both taken care of.”She was silent, watching him with narrowed eyes, and he wondered what she was thinking.“And the benefits are pretty good,” he added.
“You’d get insurance, so you wouldn’t have to worry about medical bills.
It makes sense, don’t you think?”Lacey reached for the brownie, breaking off a piece and popping it into her mouth.“And this is what you want, is it?” she said flatly.
“A shotgun wedding with the girl you knocked up one night?”He unlaced his fingers, spreading his hands as his brows went up, and hoping he didn’t look as helpless as he felt.“I - I want to do the right thing.”“For who?”“For both of us,” he said.
“For - for all of us.”Lacey closed her eyes, pressing her lips together, and he leaned forward a little.“Lacey, it’s not like we haven’t shared the place before,” he said gently.
“I know we weren’t together as such, but we’re not strangers.
We’re friends, aren’t we? I thought we were friends, anyway: I - I don’t understand why you left.”It was a question he wanted an answer to, but perhaps it wasn’t the time to push for one.
She nodded, not looking at him.“Yeah,” she said softly.
“We were friends.”“Well then.”She looked away, squeezing her eyes shut, and a tear tracked its way down her cheek.“Ah…”
He sat back, running agitated fingers through his hair.
“Lacey, please don’t cry. We can get through this, I promise.”“I never wanted to be a burden,” she whispered.“You’re not a burden,” he said sharply.
“Don’t talk about yourself that way. I liked having you live with me, having someone to come home to, to cook for.
I liked having you tease me and order me to go to fucking sleep and bring me coffee in the mornings.”She almost smiled at that, but two more tears slid down her cheeks, glistening in the harsh lights above them. He wanted to reach out to her, but instead he leaned forward on folded arms, watching the way her lower lip trembled, as though she was holding in an ocean of tears.“We could do all that again,” he said gently.
“We could be friends again, just - different. I know it won’t be the same as it was, but - well, it was never gonna be the same, was it?
We made a baby together.”Lacey hunched her shoulders a little, ducking her head.“It’s not like we were ever a thing,” she said miserably.
“It’s not like you loved me.
It just happened, that’s all. You were sad, and - and I was lonely.
There was no love there.”He sat back again, wanting to sigh.
It was true that their one time together had been caused by guilt, grief and too much whisky.
He’d been an idiot to let his guard down so much, to let her in, to let her comfort him. But it had felt so, so good to kiss her, to hold her.
To take her to bed and lose himself in her. It had felt so good, just for once, to let himself feel something other than rage and pain and loss.“Well, maybe not,” he said quietly.
“But I don’t think that’s what’s important here, is it?
We have a kid on the way, so we need to start planning for that.
Try not to worry. I’ll do whatever I can to help, I promise.”She sniffed, dashing away tears with the heel of her hand as she finally looked at him, her face uncertain.“You want this baby?”“Well, I haven’t had much of a chance to think about it,” he said honestly.
“And I’d be lying if I said it was something I’d seen in my future before today, but I think we can try to make the best of it.”Lacey stared at him for a moment, chewing her lip, and then reached out to cup his cheek, a brief press of her fingertips against fresh stubble, her touch cool.
She shook her head.“You don’t want that,” she whispered.
“I don’t want to be a burden, Rafe. I never wanted that.
You’ve been good to me. Too good. I don’t ever want to hurt you.”“You’re not a burden,” he said again, more gently.
“I took you in because it was the right thing to do.
And so is this.”She sniffed again as she sat back, wiping away more tears, and he leaned on the table.“Marry me, Lacey,” he said.
“It’ll be for the best, I promise.
For you and the baby. I’ll take care of you both.”She sighed heavily, but he could tell she was wavering.“Where are you living now?” he asked, and she shrugged despondently.“Where I can, I guess.”“So, are you gonna come live with me, or would you prefer this baby to be born in a warehouse?”“Alright, fine!” she grumbled.
“I’ll bloody marry you, if it’ll shut you up.”There was a flicker of her old fire there, and it made him grin.“Who said romance was dead?”“Someone with an accurate assessment of this shithole world,” she said dryly, and his grin widened.“Let me just make a call.”He pulled out his phone to call Fa, getting her voicemail and saying that he was taking the rest of his shift off for personal reasons.
He doubted she’d call back; she was always telling him he worked too much. Lacey popped another piece of brownie into her mouth, chewing as she watched him.“What happened to your partner?” she asked.
“Nolan?”Weaver hesitated, slipping his phone back into his pocket and picking up his coffee.“No change,” he said shortly.
"At least not yet.
His wife gave birth not long after you left.
A boy, Neal.""Oh," she said.
"So - you work alone now, or what?"“Fa’s my partner now," he said.
"She’s good.
Very efficient, good instincts.
Bosses me around almost as much as you did.”Lacey gave him a hint of a smile at that, and he nodded to her half-empty cup.“Drink your hot chocolate,” he said.
“I’m gonna take you home.”They walked back to the precinct from Granny’s, and Weaver picked up his car, driving Lacey out to the warehouse she had been calling home.
He kept a neutral expression on his face as he followed her in to collect the few things she had, but he was secretly seething with anger that she had felt she had no other choice but to live in a damp and cold industrial building with a vermin problem.“We’ll go get you some new clothes tomorrow,” he said, as she stowed her backpack in the trunk of the car. “Surprised you didn’t bloody freeze to death.”“Used to it,” was all she said, and they set off for his apartment.The place was reasonably tidy; he had always been pretty neat, and urgent calls at three in the morning had cured him of leaving his boots on the floor where he could fall over them.
He suggested that she might want to take a bath, and her expression brightened at that, so he gave her fresh towels and left her to it, going through to the kitchen to inspect the contents of the fridge.
His lips curled at the contents; beer, cheese and milk were all very well, but she would need proper nourishment. Maybe she has cravings.
Pregnant women crave stuff, don’t they?
Chocolate cake or Krispy Kremes, or something almost impossible to find in Seattle like bloody crumpets with Marmite or fucking Irn Bru.
He pulled out a beer and slammed the fridge door shut, shaking his head.
No, she’s Australian, she’s probably never had bloody Irn Bru.
I should get her some Irn Bru.
Or maybe it’s pizza with tuna and banana or something bloody weird like that. He rolled his eyes with a sigh, popping the top off the beer bottle and deciding that grocery shopping could wait until tomorrow.
They could phone for a takeout. Whatever she wanted, she could have.He went through to the lounge, swigging the cold beer and looking around.
Strange to think that in a matter of months there would be three of them living there.
A baby. He had never thought he’d be a father. Too caught up in the job to even try to make relationships work, even if he had wanted to.
He’d have to try now, though. He sank down onto the squashy leather couch with a sigh, remembering the times they had curled up there together to drink whisky and argue good-naturedly about crap that didn’t matter.
Things would be different between them now, but maybe not so different. Maybe it would be good for both of them. Give her a stable home, and him a reason to leave his desk. Maybe they could be happy.He waited for her to leave the bathroom, finishing his beer and getting another.
Eventually she came out, dressed in loose pants and an oversized sweater, her hair clean and shining.
He suggested takeout, and she immediately asked for spicy pizza with a side of hot wings. They ate dinner seated at the kitchen table, just as they had before, although without the easy banter of two accidental roommates.
Lacey was quiet, but she ate everything he put in front of her, including most of the hot wings. Afterwards, he cleaned up, and made her some tea, carried through to the lounge with a glass of whisky for himself. He sat on the couch next to her, and she took the tea from him, drawing up her feet and tucking them under herself, small, pale hands wrapped around the mug.
Weaver sat back, watching her as he sipped at his whisky.“I looked for you after you left,” he said quietly, and she sniffed, her eyes on her tea.“Thought you might.”“No one seemed to know where you were,” he added, and she shrugged.“Didn’t tell anyone, that’s why.”Weaver wanted to sigh, but he took another sip of his whisky and tried again.“So - where did you go?”“Maine.”
“Maine?”
She shrugged again, sipping at her tea, and he shook his head.“I mean, I knew I was rusty, but I’ve never actually had someone move to the other side of the country after the first time,” he remarked.
“Was I really that bad?”She didn’t respond, and he tilted his head.“Lacey,” he said gently.
“I’m trying to lighten the mood here.”“I know,” she sighed, and glanced at him.
“Sorry, I’m being a miserable bitch. Been a hell of a few months.”“You should tell me about it sometime,” he said, and she nodded.“I might go to bed,” she said.
“Kinda beat. You mind?”He shook his head, and she stood up, cradling her cup.“I’ll - take my old room for now,” she added, looking awkward.
“It’s - look, this is all kind of new, you know? Could use a few days to get used to it.”“Of course,” he said immediately, and ran a hand through his hair as he sighed.
“Look - maybe I wasn’t clear in what I said earlier. I was absolutely serious in saying I want us to get married, but you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, alright?
And that includes with me. I’m - I’m not gonna force you into anything, okay? We can leave the bed in your room, just as it is.”“So where will the baby sleep?” she asked dryly.“We’ll sort something out.”She eyed him for a moment, and nodded, her shoulders loosening a little, some of the cautiousness leaving her.
He set down his whisky glass and showed her to her old room, and if she was surprised that it was ready for her, with clean sheets on the bed and the drawers cleared out, she said nothing.“I’ll see you in the morning,” she said.“Yeah,” he said lamely.
“Sleep well.”Lacey nodded, shifting from foot to foot, and just as he thought she was about to shut the door in his face, she fixed him with her wide blue eyes, squaring her jaw.“You still have that really good coffee?” she asked.He smiled, a faint twitch of his mouth.“In the cupboard.”“Well, I may not be able to drink the stuff,” she said, a little awkwardly, “but I guess I could make you one. Get your arse out of bed like I used to, yeah?”Weaver’s smile grew a little.“I’d like that.”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Weaver had left the apartment immediately after putting the signed divorce papers on the kitchen counter for Lacey to find, his skin still humming from the pleasure they had shared and his emotions in turmoil.
The two a.m. walk home was uneventful, much to his disgust. He had half-hoped for some idiot to cross his path, just so he had the excuse of beating the crap out of another denizen of Seattle’s loathsome criminal underbelly.He slept poorly, rising at five-thirty to drink three cups of coffee and head out to the precinct.
Signing the papers had affected him more deeply than he had anticipated; he had told himself they were just words, that those few strokes of a pen were only evidence of an agreement between them.
His agreement to end everything they had.
He was in a foul mood, and so he chose to deal with pain and heartbreak in the best way he knew, which was to bury himself in work.
Fortunately, Fa had received a tip-off about a meth lab in an old factory, and much of the day was spent following up leads and speaking with the uniformed officers to arrange a raid on the place. Since he had switched back from Homicide to Vice over three years ago, he found that his workload was increasing, the flow of drugs onto the streets seemingly never-ending.
The news of a possible new player in town didn’t make his mood any better.“I don’t have anything solid on this new gang,” said Fa, when he asked her about the tip-off.
“My informants are talking about dealers being priced out of the market. There have been threats of violence, intimidation, even disappearances of some of the more unsavoury characters we know.
No one will talk openly, of course.”“Of course,” said Weaver, running a weary hand over his face.
“Any big names being whispered around?”Fa shook her head, dark ponytail swinging.“No one we know,” she said.
“I’m thinking if we bust this lab open, we might get something concrete to work on.”“Set it up,” Weaver agreed.
“I could do with the exercise.”“I think we’re looking at Tuesday morning,” she said.
“Bright and early, what do you say?”“I’m in.”After she had found the signed papers, Lacey tried to hold in her tears, busying herself with making coffee for herself, and tea for Tilly.
She mixed pancake batter, using the action to work out some of her grief, and set the bowl aside while she poured herself a cup of steaming, fragrant coffee.
It was dark and bitter, which matched her mood, but she added lots of cream and sugar as always, cupping the mug in her hands and inhaling the aroma as she leaned against the kitchen cupboards.
A faint slap of feet reached her ears, and Tilly padded through, Dragon tucked under her arm, yawning and rubbing one eye.“You want to go out today, sweetie?” asked Lacey, and Tilly beamed at her.“Can Henry come?”“If your Aunt Roni says so,” said Lacey.
“We’ll call them, okay?”“Can we go to the park?”“Uh - sure.”
Lacey took a sip of her coffee.“Can we go to Granny’s?”Her eyes were sparkling, and Lacey couldn’t help grinning.“You want a burger for lunch?”“Yeah!”“As long as you eat your breakfast, okay?”“Okay.”“Good girl.”Tilly slipped onto a chair at the kitchen table, and Lacey set down the coffee to make the pancakes, letting the pan heat while she got out the maple syrup and a punnet of blueberries.“You want ‘em in the pancakes or on top?”“Daddy does both.”“Alrighty then.”Lacey poured pancake batter in a round, waiting for it to cook before hissing in vexation.
She wants funny shapes, I said I’d make her funny shapes.
She flipped the pancake, shaking her head.“Sorry baby, I forgot about the funny shapes,” she said.
“So I’ll take this round one, okay?”“I don’t mind the round ones,” Tilly assured her solemnly, and Lacey felt tears prick her eyes.
She’s her father’s daughter.
Wants to make things easy for me.
I don’t deserve either of them. The second pancake fared better; she managed to shape it into something resembling a Mickey Mouse head, although with the blueberries studded through it looked as though Mickey had some sort of disease.
Lacey flipped it onto a plate with the first, glancing around with a start as there was a knock at the door.
Heart thumping, she turned off the heat, carrying the plate to the table where Tilly waited with the bottle of maple syrup clutched in one small hand“Eat up, okay?” said Lacey.Wiping her hands, she raised her chin and stalked to the front door, putting the chain across before opening it. Her heart sank as she recognised the person standing there. He was slim and dark-haired, with a close-cropped beard, and Lacey imagined that women that didn’t know him too well thought him good-looking, and that he knew it.
His name was Arthur, and if he was visiting her during the day it wasn’t a good sign.“What do you want?” she asked flatly.“A progress update,” he said, and raised an eyebrow.
“You want me to talk about this in the hallway where all your neighbours can hear?”Lacey glowered at him, then opened the door to let him walk past her.“Make it quick,” she said.
“I have shit to do.”“Well, unless any of that is doing what you agreed to, I couldn’t be less interested,” he said coldly.
“What’s the status?”Lacey hesitated.“It’s proving harder than I thought,” she admitted.
“It’s not like I have any reason to go there on a whim.”“Don’t you?”"Not anymore," she said, putting her hands on her hips.
"You know my situation.""Sounds to me like you're creating barriers," he said.
"A suspicious person might think that was deliberate.""I can hold up my end of the bargain," she said, through gritted teeth."And yet our mutual friend felt the need to have me come remind you of your obligations.""I don't need reminding of anything!" whispered Lacey fiercely.
"I'll do what I promised!
Now back the hell off!"Arthur looked off to the side, and Lacey glanced across, noting that Tilly had left the kitchen and was staring at them.
Arthur’s face broke into a wide, false smile.“Well, hello there, little lady!” he said heartily.
“I’m just having a chat with Mommy about work, okay?”Tilly looked him up and down, lips pursed as though she wasn’t sure what species he was.“My daddy’s a police officer,” she said, and Arthur blinked.“Go eat your pancakes, baby,” said Lacey.
“I’ll be there in a minute.”Tilly raised her chin and stomped off again, and Arthur’s smile grew.“Cute kid,” he said.
“Here’s hoping her mother has some sense, or things could go badly.”Lacey folded her arms.“Are you threatening us?” she said softly.
“Because I get the feeling your boss wouldn’t like that.
Correct me if I’m wrong.”The smile slipped a little before returning, as false and empty as ever.“Check in with an update before the end of the week,” he said coldly.
“Patience is a virtue that not everyone possesses, do you understand me?”Lacey glared at him, but nodded, and he swept out, the door closing behind him.
She ran her hands over her face, taking a couple of deep breaths to calm herself, and exhaled loudly, striding to the kitchen.“So,” she said brightly, clapping her hands together and making Tilly smile.
“Let’s see how much of a mess I can make of this next pancake, hmm?”Friday morning had dawned unusually bright and sunny, if cold, but to Lacey it still seemed as though the sky was overcast, the clouds dark and heavy, and she had to keep looking out of the window to remind herself that it was a crisp winter day.
It had been like this the day they got married: a rare bright, dry day in March that had been cold enough to make her teeth ache. She hadn’t minded that, or the snow that fell when they went to the Nolans’ cabin for their brief honeymoon.
It had been almost magical, the falling of fat white flakes amongst the black trunks of fir trees and the blue glow of moonlight on soft drifts of snow.
The way the cold air caught in her throat and made her eyes water as they had looked out over the lake, its edges clouded with feathery growths of ice spreading down from dead clumps of reeds.
The warmth of the fire he had lit within the cabin, and the softness and comfort of the bed they had shared.
The pleasure of his touch.She had always disliked the cold, being born and raised in Melbourne until she was six, and Nevada after that.
Her first winter in the northern US had come as a shock to the system, but she had seen it as something of a rite of passage, a mark of the new life she was making for herself.
Sometimes she wondered what had possessed her to travel to the northern states, to move between Washington and Illinois and Maine and all the places in between, as the mood took her.
Perhaps it was her subconscious at work, thinking no one would think to look for her in the wettest and coldest places in the US.
Hadn't lasted, as it turned out, but she had had ten years of relative peace since making her home there.
Ten years of peace and four years of happiness.
Until now.She was nervous, and it wasn’t merely the fact that Weaver was going to be coming over for the first time since he had signed the divorce papers.
They still sat in her bag, neatly folded and ready for the next step she had to take. She was trying to put that off for as long as possible, but she couldn’t delay it forever.
It made her heart ache whenever she thought about it, so she had shoved them out of sight until she had no choice but to follow through with her plan. Her plan was the other thing that was making her nervous, and she paced back and forth while Tilly played in her bath.
It was fortunate that it was Weaver’s turn to take her for a couple of days; Lacey felt as though she was slowly losing her mind, her anxiety levels causing her to forgo sleep and become snappish and tearful. None of it was Tilly’s fault, and she didn’t want her daughter seeing her in such a state.
Besides, it would be good for her to spend some time with her father.Lacey started at a knock at the door, her heart thumping.
If it's fucking Arthur again I'll punch him right in the middle of his smug face.

The knock came again, and she took a deep breath, opening and closing her fists.

Glancing at Tilly, who was playing some sort of game with the toy dolphin and elephant she liked to take in the bath, she slipped out of the bathroom and hurried to the hallway, putting the chain across before opening it a crack.
She peered out nervously, relaxing a little as she saw Weaver’s grim expression above the chain. He raised an eyebrow.“We did have an arrangement,” he said neutrally.“Oh.”
She blinked.
“Yeah, of course.
Come on in.”She shut the door, taking off the chain and opening it fully.
He walked in, an air of bitterness and low-key anger hanging around him, thick and heavy as the leather jacket he wore.
She supposed she couldn’t blame him, in the circumstances, but it still made her want to cry.
How absurd was that, wanting to break down when he’d given her everything she asked for?
Part of her knew that that her distress stemmed from the fact that he’d done it so easily, so willingly.
As though it meant nothing to him.
As though it was a relief.
Perhaps it was.He had walked through to the lounge, and she followed him, leaning in the doorway as he turned to face her.“Is she ready?” he asked.“In the tub,” said Lacey.
“We kind of had an accident with breakfast this morning.
Never let a three-year-old ‘help’ with the smoothie you wanted.”Weaver’s mouth twitched, as though he wanted to smile, but then it fell from his face and his grim expression was back.“What about her things?” he said.
“Last time she wanted more books.”“Oh, I forgot to pack them,” said Lacey, running her hands over her face.
“Sorry.”“Well, we’ll do it now,” he said, and stomped off to Tilly’s bedroom.Lacey checked on Tilly before following him through, closing the bedroom door behind them.
She watched as he put Tilly’s little turquoise case on the bed and opened it up, looking through what she’d already packed.“Come to think of it, she might need some warmer clothes, as well, depending on what you have planned,” said Lacey.
“I head the weather's gonna take a turn for the worse.”She opened up one of the drawers, picking out a little sweater and pants and another pair of mittens, and Weaver nodded as he took them.
There was silence as he picked out books: terrible, deafening silence that she longed to break. He seemed to sense it, and as always gave her a way out, glancing up as he placed another book on the small pile.“You clearly have something to say, so let’s hear it.”Lacey licked her lips.“You left,” she said.
“The other night, after we - uh…”
She stumbled over the words. “You - you just - left.”Weaver looked away again.“Yeah, well, as I remember it you told me you’d had your use of me,” he said evenly.
“Didn’t see much point in sticking around.”She was silent for a moment, and he went on packing.“I shouldn’t have said that,” she said quietly, and he let out a small, humourless chuckle, still not looking at her.“No, you shouldn’t,” he said.
“But it might be the one thing you said to me that wasn’t a total fucking lie, so I’ll hang onto it if it’s all the same to you.”He slammed the case shut, zipping it fiercely, and straightened up, turning to face her.
There was anger there, a gleam in his eyes that made her skin tingle and her heart thump, but she doubted he would respond to her touch again.
The thought that they might have shared a bed for the last time hit her like a blow to the chest, and she sucked in a breath, eyes stinging. Weaver was watching her, his jaw tight and his mouth set in a thin line.“Anytime you want to tell me what else is going on, Lacey, feel fucking free,” he said.She swallowed, raising her chin, meeting his eyes with hers and giving a tiny shake of her head.
He ran a hand over his face with a sigh, and some of the anger left him, replaced with a weary resignation that was somehow worse.“Do you want me to get her dressed?” he asked, and Lacey shook her head.“I’ll do it,” she said.
“Uh - you want some coffee?”He looked as though he was about to refuse, and she took a step forward.“Please,” she added.
“Look, at least be in the apartment when she comes out.
I don’t want to do that bullshit thing where you wait in the damn car for her.”A look of pain flashed across his face, but he finally nodded.“Alright,” he said.
“I’ll make the coffee.”She nodded, and he picked up the case and stepped past her, opening the bedroom door.“You signed the papers,” she blurted.Weaver froze with his back to her, hand on the door handle, and slowly swivelled back around to face her.
Lacey eyed him, chewing her lip as she shifted.“Yeah,” he said.
“It was your idea, if you recall.”“Yeah.”She felt terrible, the loss and pain in his face clear to her, no matter how much he tried to close himself off. Tears welled in her eyes, and she swallowed hard.“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“For what it’s worth. I never meant to hurt you.”Weaver set down the case, taking a step towards her, a softness in his eyes once more.“I want you to be happy, Lacey,” he said.
“You’re clearly not, and it’s pretty fucking obvious I don’t know how to make you happy.
So I guess you were right.
Just took me awhile to see it.”She bit her lip, her eyes stinging.
I was happy.
God, I was so happy.
You did make me happy, I swear it! He turned away again, but hesitated, turning back and lifting a hand to cup her cheek.
His touch was warm, his scent achingly familiar, and she wanted to lean into it, to step into his arms and kiss him and let him take her to bed once more.“I hope you find what you’re looking for,” he added, more gently.
“I really do.”She closed her eyes, losing herself in the feel of him for a moment, and then he was gone, stepping out of the room and leaving her weighted down with guilt and heartbreak and a deep well of unshed tears.Weaver felt his heart sink as he clutched Tilly’s hand and she waved an enthusiastic goodbye to her mother, light brown curls bouncing.
Lacey was smiling as much as she could in the doorway to the apartment, but she looked as though she was going to cry any second, and she shut the door quickly enough that he suspected she soon would be.
He had tried to hide as much of his feelings from her as possible, to keep his hurt and confusion buried deep within where it could hurt only him.
The last thing he wanted was to make this harder for her.
Her life had been hard enough.Tilly was looking up at him quizzically, and he squeezed her hand.“Okay, princess,” he said gently.
“Shall we go and see your Uncle David?”“Yeah!” exclaimed Tilly, bouncing up and down.
“Can I play with Neal and Wilby?”“Oh, I think that could be arranged.”He couldn’t help smiling at her excitement, and swept her up in one arm to head to the elevator, dragging the little suitcase with him.David Nolan’s place was a short drive away, further out of town on a tree-lined street, a three-bed house with a spacious yard and a picket fence to add to the image of suburban domestic bliss.
Nolan had been his partner in Vice, and had followed him to Homicide.
A bad accident and the resulting coma had ended his police career, and so he spent his time caring for his son while his wife, Snow, taught at a nearby elementary school.
Neal was almost nine months older than Tilly, but the two got along well, and Weaver made sure to keep in regular contact with his old partner and good friend.Nolan had been unable to walk since coming out of his coma, confined to a wheelchair and undergoing rigorous physical therapy sessions to try to regain the use of his legs.
It was a slow process, and Weaver was privately unsure whether he would walk again, but David Nolan was an eternal optimist.
It had made for a productive partnership, Nolan's easygoing nature and earnest desire to do the right thing balancing his own cynicism and tendency to bend the rules.
Or break them entirely when justice called for it.He left Tilly’s case in the car, holding her in the crook of one arm as he walked up the wooden ramp to the porch.
The ramp had been painted by Snow when it was first fitted: dark grey to match the porch. The paint was flaking on the sides now, and he reminded himself to offer to repaint it.
If indeed Snow would accept his help; their relationship had been somewhat brittle ever since the accident, and he couldn't blame her for that.He rapped on the door, an excited barking immediately starting up within the house, and shared a grin with Tilly at the sound of it.
After a moment, Nolan answered the door, beaming up at them from his seat in the wheelchair, the sleeves of his plaid shirt rolled up to his elbows and a twinkle in his blue eyes.
Wilby, the Nolans' dog, came tearing into the hallway in a blur of black, brown and white, tongue lolling out and tail wagging as he pushed his nose into Weaver's hand to be petted.“Hey there,” said Nolan.
“To what do we owe the pleasure?”“I want to play with Neal and Wilby,” said Tilly stoutly, and Nolan’s smile widened.
He looked back over his shoulder.“Neal!” he called.
“Your Uncle Rafe’s here with Tilly!”“Yay!” came a piping voice from inside the house.Weaver grinned, setting Tilly down, and Neal Nolan came hurtling into the hall, waving a piece of paper.“I drawed a unicorn!” he announced happily.“Hey, that’s fantastic!” said Weaver, bending to set Tilly down and peer at the drawing as he scratched Wilby's ears.
“Are you two gonna draw some more for us?”“Yeah!”The two children ran off together, Wilby letting out a snort and shaking his head before following them with his tail windmilling, and Weaver straightened up, running a hand through his hair with a sigh.
Nolan gave him a knowing look.“You look like you need to talk,” he said.
“Coffee?”“God, please.”Weaver closed the door behind him, following Nolan as he steered the chair down the hallway to the kitchen.
The faint chatter of the two children was coming from the lounge, and Weaver pushed the kitchen door to with his foot, muting the sound a little.
Nolan reached for the set of crutches leaning against the sink, shoving them under his armpits.“You need a hand?” asked Weaver, but he shook his head.“Nope,” he said, through gritted teeth.
“Gotta keep trying.”He had backed the chair up against the cupboards so it wouldn’t move, and shifted forward in the seat, the muscles of his arms bulging as he pulled himself upright with the crutches, feet dragging a little before he got them under himself.
It was an effort, but he swung his body forward, taking one shuffling step to the sink, then another. Weaver itched to help, to turn on the water, to hand him the coffee pot, but he let Nolan do it without assistance, and when water was poured into the coffee maker and cups were on the kitchen table with a little pottery jug of cream, Nolan collapsed back into his chair with a sigh of relief.“It’s not getting any easier, then?” said Weaver, and received a shrug in return.“Therapy’s ongoing,” said Nolan.
“I took a grand total of ten steps the other day.
Made it all the way along the parallel bars.
Got a gold star.”He punched the air in mock celebration, and Weaver shook his head.“Progress is good, right?” he said.
“You were in that bed for a long time.
I guess you’re trying to deal with the muscle wastage more than retrain your legs at this point.”“Well, my arms are more than making up for it,” said Nolan cheerfully, flexing a bulging bicep.
“Another six months of lugging this suck-ass body around and I could snap you like a twig.”“You could do that anyway.”They shared a grin, and there was comfortable silence for a while as they waited for the coffee to brew.
Weaver looked around the kitchen, eyes flicking from the ticking clock in the shape of a cartoon cat with a swinging tail to the colourful drawings Neal had done, pinned to the fridge with magnets that said things like Dream, Believe, Achieve, The Best is Yet to Be, and Life is the Most Wonderful Fairy Tale.
Snow was an optimist too.When the coffee was brewed, Nolan pushed the chair across to the kitchen counter, reaching for the coffee pot and taking it to the table to pour them each a cup.
He glanced up as he pushed one towards Weaver.“So,” he said.
“How are things going with Lacey?”Weaver sank into a chair with a grumbling sigh, letting his head roll back as he slumped into the seat.“She gave me divorce papers,” he said quietly.
“And I signed them.”Nolan said nothing, merely reaching for the cream and pouring some into his coffee.
There was no judgement in his eyes, but his silence made Weaver want to talk.
As Nolan undoubtedly knew.
Damn him.“Oh, and we had sex,” he added.
“Passionate, back-breaking, mind-blowing sex, just like the days before she asked me to leave.”“Before or after you signed the papers?”“Before.”Nolan raised an eyebrow.“Well, now I’m confused,” he remarked, and took a drink.“Join the fucking club.”Weaver reached for his cup, taking a sip, and Nolan watched him over the rim of his cup.
He shook his head a little.“What are you doing, man?” he asked softly.
“You don’t want to do this.”Weaver’s mouth twisted as he swallowed, and he put down the cup.“She does,” he whispered.“Does she?” asked Nolan.
“Look, I know Lacey’s not exactly big on heartfelt declarations of love, but I can tell when two people are good for each other.""Maybe we used to be.""Bullshit," said Nolan.
"You two have been inseparable since you got together, and I don't know why either of you would want to change that.
Does it really seem to you like this is something that’s making her happy?”“She says she doesn’t want to hurt me.”“Seems to me like you’re both hurting,” he said.
“Hell, you’re all hurting.
How does Tilly feel about it?”Weaver swallowed hard, looking away.“She keeps asking why I’m not there,” he said thickly.
“God, I fucking hate it! I hate that we have to share her, that I can’t be there to read to her each night or tuck her into bed.”“Sounds like it’s hard on all of you,” agreed Nolan.
“Which is kind of my point.”“Well, Lacey’s the one that got herself a lawyer,” growled Weaver, snatching at his coffee cup again.
“Seems to me that she’s serious about not wanting us to be together, but I’m happy for you to prove me bloody wrong.”Nolan was silent, and Weaver could feel the hurt and frustration boiling up within him, burning his chest and throat, ready to burst free.“You should see the bloody thing her lawyers drew up!” he burst out.
“You wouldn’t believe the amount of detail they go into!
Even providing for who gets custody if one of us dies, is declared insane or bloody incarcerated, for fuck’s sake!
I just - I fucking hate that our entire bloody futures have been set out in a bunch of fucking clauses!”He cut off, blinking rapidly, and looked away, his heart thumping in agitation, and Nolan took a slow sip of his coffee.“Okay, let me tackle this from another angle,” he said.
“This came out of the blue for you, right?”Weaver sighed, running a hand over his face and pinching the bridge of his nose to clear tired eyes.“Right,” he said wearily.
“One day I think I’m happily married, and then I find out I’m not.
Or - or she’s not. Which I guess means I can’t be, either.”“So what changed?” asked Nolan.
“What else is going on in her life?”Weaver took a slurp of coffee, nodding.“She’s lying to me about something,” he admitted.
“Something that’s scared her. No fucking clue what, though.”“Something from her old life?”“I don’t know,” he said.
“It’s not as though she was ever open with me about that, either, so who the fuck knows?”“So maybe find out before you make any life-changing decisions,” suggested Nolan.
“Sounds to me like there’s more going on here than her falling out of love with you.”Weaver shook his head with a wry, humourless smile.“Who's to say she was ever in love to begin with?”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Three years and eight months earlier
Weaver found that the news of his impending fatherhood gave him insomnia.
After Lacey had gone to bed, he stayed up until three in the morning researching pregnancy, childbirth and how to arrange a wedding in the quickest time possible.
He wasn't about to do anything without speaking to Lacey first, but upon looking into it, he found that they could wrap the whole thing up within a matter of days if they could find someone to perform the ceremony. He didn’t want a fuss, and he suspected Lacey felt the same way.By the time he finally went to bed he was exhausted, and was woken at seven by a knock on the door.
He groaned into the pillow, burying his face in it in denial of it being morning.“You wanted me to wake you, remember?”He rolled onto his back with a sigh, to see Lacey standing there in loose pants and a vest, her dark curls rumpled and a cup of coffee in one hand.
It was like old times, but for the sad look in her eyes. He wished he could make her smile again.“Thanks,” he said wearily, sitting up and running his hands over his face, and she set the cup down on his nightstand, sitting on the edge of his bed with her hands folded in her lap.“So,” she said, glancing at him.
“Did you actually get any sleep?”Weaver let his hands drop, meeting her eyes.
She looked nervous, as though she was half-expecting him to go back on his own suggestion and throw her out again.“Yeah,” he said.
“I mean I didn’t get a lot.
I spent most of the night reading up on what we’d need to do to sort a quick wedding out.
The ceremony itself only takes around fifteen minutes, and it turns out that if we can find someone who’s ordained, we just need to apply for a licence and wait three days.”“Roni’s ordained,” said Lacey.
“I remember her telling me she married a couple of guys that go to the bar. We could ask her.”“Is she?”
He shrugged, taking a sip of his coffee.
“Well, that could make things easier. Would you be okay with that?”Lacey chewed her lip.“I think it’d be - nice,” she said.
“Having someone we know.”“Then we can go and see her today,” he said.
“If you like.”“Okay.”“We’ll need a couple of witnesses, too,” he added.
“I thought I’d ask Fa and Dunbroch. Just so they get the opportunity to take the piss out of me, really.”He grinned, trying to lighten the mood, but Lacey regarded him soberly with her blue eyes, silent, almost accusing. He wanted to sigh, but he kept going.“Anyone you want to be there?”Lacey hesitated for a moment, but shook her head."I'll give you some money for a new dress, if you like," he added, and she eyed him."What are you going to wear?""I own a grand total of one suit," he admitted.
"And honestly it could be a bit tight.
Haven't worn it since I ditched the cigarettes."Lacey smiled faintly."Well, don't be uncomfortable on my account," she said.
"Buy yourself something new, you cheapskate.
Or wear jeans, if you want.
Not like this is gonna be a
Hello
celebrity wedding special, is it?"He smiled at that, but she dropped her gaze, looking at her hands, and he put his head to the side, trying to catch her eye.“What about after?” he asked.“After?”“It’s traditional to go on honeymoon.”Lacey wrinkled her nose.“I think I’d rather just stay in town.”“You sure?” he asked.
“When I say honeymoon, I was - I was just meaning a break, a change, that's all.
Just a
few days.
I could drive us out of the city. Could be nice to get a little fresh air.”She was silent, and he sighed, deciding to change the subject.“What about you?” he asked.
“How did you sleep?”Lacey shrugged.“I slept okay,” she said.
“Indigestion. Shouldn’t have eaten all those hot wings.”“Sorry.”She wrinkled her nose.“Nah, it’s one of those pregnancy things,” she said.
“My body wants spicy food even though my brain keeps telling me it’s gonna hurt if I eat it.”“Is there something I can get you for that?”She gave him a tiny grin.“More hot wings?”Weaver returned the grin.“I can see I’ll have to save you from yourself.”“Well, you do like to do that,” she said dryly, and his grin widened.“So apart from the indigestion, you slept okay?”“Yeah,” she said, looking around.
“It - it feels kinda like being home.
Comforting. It’s weird.”“Oh.”
He picked up his coffee.
“Well, good. You know this is your home now, right?”She nodded, concentrating on her fingers as she tapped them together, and he took a sip of coffee before setting down his cup.“Why did you go to Maine?” he asked quietly, and Lacey glanced up, catching her lower lip in her teeth for a moment before letting it go and looking away.“Looked up an old friend,” she said dismissively.“Were you there long?” he asked, and she shrugged.“Long enough to work out I was pregnant.”“Ah,” he said, as though he understood.
He wished he fucking did. “Your friend knows, then?”“Yeah,” said Lacey softly.
“They - uh - told me to come back here.” Or else you wouldn’t have?

He shoved the thought away as soon as it formed.
They could talk about why she had left so abruptly some other time.“You sure you don’t want to invite them to the wedding?” he asked.
Lacey shook her head.“Long way to come for fifteen minutes, right?”“I guess,” he said, and sipped his coffee.
“Did you eat breakfast?”Lacey gave him a flat look.“What would I eat?” she asked.
“You have nothing.
Did you go back to living on coffee and bloody cheese slices the moment I left, or did it take you all of a week?”He grinned at that.“Okay, how about we go to Granny’s and get breakfast, then?” he said.“If we can go grocery shopping afterwards,” she agreed, and patted his shoulder.
“Get your arse out of bed and buy me pancakes.”She sauntered out, and his grin widened.
She hadn’t changed that much.Weaver spent the morning organising his domestic situation as best he could.
Breakfast was followed by grocery shopping, which was something like the old days, him pushing the cart while Lacey tossed whatever she wanted in it, and then a frenzied dash back around the store when they realised they didn’t have anything to make a decent meal with.
They then went to apply for a marriage licence, and he was relieved to see that Lacey seemed a little more enthusiastic about the idea than she had the previous day. It gave him hope that they could make a success of their new life, despite the inauspicious start.He had work that afternoon, and so after they had gotten Roni’s surprised but immediate agreement to perform the wedding ceremony, he headed off to the precinct, leaving Lacey with Roni, at her request.Fa wasn’t in the office, which made him frown in puzzlement.
She hadn’t called to tell him that she would be late, and he hoped she hadn’t decided to go chasing after some new lead without waiting for backup.
Unlike her, to be sure; of the two of them, she was the more sensible, cautious one, but he was protective of her nonetheless. Especially given what had happened with Nolan.
She wasn’t answering her phone, either, and he sighed in frustration, leaving her a curt message telling her to call. There were new cases on his desk, but none of them looked especially interesting, and so he checked through his emails instead.
Merida pushed a cup of coffee at him as he dealt with the last of them.“You look like crap,” she said.
“What kept you awake this time?”“The thought of seeing you,” he said absently, and she snorted, smacking his shoulder and making him smirk.“Mulan said to tell you that she’ll be back around three, by the way,” she said.
“Personal time, nothing to worry about.”Weaver looked up with a wicked grin.“First name terms now, is it?” he said.
“I was wondering when you two would pull your heads out of your arses.”Merida blushed a deep red.“Shut up, it’s no’ like that!”“Did you forget I’m a bloody detective?” he asked mildly.
“Finding out people's secrets is what I do."“Can’t find your arse with both hands, most days,” she said, her deep blush clashing wonderfully with her red hair.
Weaver inclined his head."Well, I’ve had to put up with months of you two making heart-eyes at one another over the forensic results,” he said.
"Hardly the biggest mystery I've ever had to crack.
Just bloody ask her out before I do it for you.""Don't you bloody dare," snapped Merida, still blushing.
“Have you looked at those new files yet?”“Give me a bloody chance,” he grumbled, reaching for the files.
“Are any of these urgent? I’m planning on taking a week off starting Thursday.”“Since when?”“Since now.”He sipped at the coffee she had given him, and Merida picked up her own cup, frowning curiously.“What’s with the time off all of a sudden?” she asked, flicking her hair back.
“Drake usually has to kick you out of this place to get you to take a break. You get a new hobby or something?”“Not exactly,” he said.
“I’m getting married.”It was gratifying to see her choke on her coffee, and he couldn’t help grinning as she glared at him, setting down the cup on his desk hard enough that coffee slopped over the rim, splattering outwards in a dark brown sunburst.“Since when, you arsehole?” she demanded.“Since yesterday,” he said, opening up a file.“Since—”
She threw up her hands.
“What the bloody hell happened when I was sleeping?”“Lacey,” he said heavily.
“Turned up out of the blue after four months.
No idea what she’s been up to, but she’s back, and she’s moving in with me.
Permanently.”“I thought that was her I saw yesterday,” she said thoughtfully, and ran a hand through her hair.
“I mean, I know you two had some kind of weird thing for each other, but I figured that she liked older guys and you were just a pervert.”“Thanks a fucking bunch,” he said, in a flat tone.
“It was never like that. We were friends, that’s all.”“And you’re jumping from ‘friends’ to ‘she does a bunk for four months’ to ‘married’?” she said sceptically.
“You sure that’s the logical next step for you two idiots?”“Well, I found out I’m gonna be a father in five months,” he said dryly.
“Tends to concentrate the mind.”Her eyes bulged at that.“Are you trying to give me a bloody heart attack today?” she spluttered.
“Lacey’s pregnant?”“Yes.”“So when you say you were ‘friends’...”“It happened once,” he said impatiently.
“She left right after. I woke up and she was gone.”“You need to work on your technique,” she observed, grinning.“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” he said.
“By the way, are you busy Thursday afternoon? I need a best man - or woman, I guess - and the only other candidate can’t make it.”He gave her the briefest of smiles, and she sent him a sober look.“Still no word?” she asked, and Weaver sighed.“I went to the hospital yesterday,” he said.
“There’s no change, although they say he could wake up anytime.
Could be hours, could be days. Could be never.”His voice trailed off, and he looked down at the open file in front of him, pretending to concentrate on its contents but seeing nothing.“Well,” said Merida, her cheerfulness sounding a little forced.
“Guess I’ll have to be your best woman, then, since you’re such a fucking loser you only have like three friends.”He grinned at that.“I don’t have to give a bloody speech, do I?” she asked, and he sighed again.“Believe me, this is the opposite of a formal occasion,” he said.
“I really only need you there as a witness, to be honest.
It'll be a short ceremony, followed by drinks at Roni’s. I might spring to some food if anyone’s hungry.”“Seattle’s socialites are gonna lose their shit at missing out on this one.”“Will you come or not?”“Fine,” she sighed, sounding put-upon.
“Anyone else attending the wedding of the year?”“I’ll ask Fa, obviously,” he said.
“Roni’s agreed to perform the ceremony.
That’s pretty much it.”“Where are you going on honeymoon?” she asked, winking at him.“We’re not.”“What?”
She shook her head.
“Fuck’s sake, man, you’re marrying a gorgeous girl less than half your age and you can’t spring for a weekend away?”“I asked,” he said.
“She said she didn’t want to leave town.”“I’m guessing no pre-wedding party either.”“She’s pregnant,” said Weaver repressively.
“And before you ask, no, you are not taking me out and getting me shit-faced, okay?”Merida sighed, slumping a little.“Fine,” she said.
“This is shaping up to be the weirdest wedding ever.”“Well, look on the bright side,” he said blandly.
“Play your cards right and you and Fa could end up snogging in a corner at Roni’s.”“Shut up, you wanker,” she muttered, stomping off, and he snickered.Roni had an apartment above the bar she owned, a pleasant two-bed with a spacious kitchen-diner and a large balcony, on which she grew potted herbs and chillies and a dwarf apple tree in a large terracotta urn.
Lacey had been there several times when she and Weaver had lived together as friends, drinking wine and whisky and listening to Roni’s extensive collection of music as they talked into the small hours.
Roni was making tea now, pouring hot water over bags of dried peppermint as Lacey sat at her kitchen table.
There were bags of baby supplies stacked in one corner: diapers and plastic-wrapped bibs and boxed toys, and Lacey eyed them curiously.“I’m guessing the adoption you were talking about is going through, huh?” she asked, and Roni smiled, flicking wisps of dark hair off her face as she brought the cups to the table.“A baby boy,” she said.
“Three months old. I pick him up next week.”“Congratulations,” said Lacey, taking her tea.
“What are you calling him?”“Henry.”
Roni sat down opposite, dark eyes soft and a smile still curving her lips.
“I hired someone to cover in the bar. Something tells me I’m gonna be pretty busy at home for awhile.”“Yeah, well, if you have any tips, let me know,” said Lacey dryly, cupping her hands around her tea.
Roni eyed her.“Maybe they can have playdates,” she suggested.
“You know what you’re having yet?”Lacey shook her head.“Got a preference?”“Human, I guess.”
She pulled a face. “Honestly, at the moment I’m trying not to think about it too much.
Too scary.”“Well, at least you have Rafe to support you,” said Roni.
“How come you didn’t come back earlier? He would have helped, you know.”“I know,” sighed Lacey.
“I know, I just - I was kind of pretending it wasn’t happening.”“And now?”“Now I’m wondering if he’s doing the same.”Roni snorted quietly, picking up her tea.“Are you kidding?
Seems to me like he’s getting your entire future planned out.”“I doubt it’s the future he wanted,” muttered Lacey, and Roni set down her cup, leaning on the table and fixing her with dark eyes.“He could’ve just given you child support,” she said flatly.
“Instead he offers to marry you, give you a good home, a decent standard of living and everything that goes along with that.
Did he even ask you for a paternity test when the kid’s born?”Lacey shook her head, and Roni sat back, folding her arms.“So he’s done all that without you even proving the kid’s his?”“I don’t sleep around!” snapped Lacey.
“It’s his baby. But we had a one-night-stand, that was it!
It’s not like we were ever together!”“Didn’t you take off right after?” asked Roni.
“What do you think would have happened if you’d stuck around?”“I dunno,” said Lacey.
“Awkwardness and - and strained conversations while he tries to work out why the hell he did it.”Roni nodded slowly, and sat forward again.“Sounds to me like you’d already made your mind up he didn’t want you,” she said, more gently.
“That he couldn’t want you.
Honey, I get it, I do.
Low self-esteem’s a fucking bitch, but you have more than yourself to think about right now.
You need to give things a chance, right?”"I'm not - great - at letting people in," said Lacey uncomfortably.
"Or, you know, forming meaningful relationships or any of that shit.
How the hell can I be a - a wife?
I can barely say the word!
It sounds like something someone way older and more mature than me would be, you know?""And 'mother' doesn't?"Lacey's mouth twisted."Like I said," she whispered.
"Trying not to think about it."Roni sighed, raising her eyes to the ceiling.“Look, it took both of you to make this baby,” she said.
“Clearly you liked him enough to fuck him, so can you at least try to make an effort to be happy?”“He’s only doing it because he feels sorry for me,” mumbled Lacey.“So what?”“So, I don’t want him to feel obligated, that’s what.”Roni fixed her with a look.“He got you pregnant,” she said.
“Of course he feels obligated. He’s a decent guy, whether he believes it or not.”“I know that…”“So it’s time to pull up your big girl pants and make a life with him,” said Roni.
“For the sake of your child, if nothing else.”Lacey shifted uncomfortably.“What if I don’t know how?” she asked.
“What if I just end up hurting him? That’s the last thing I want.”“Try having a little faith in yourself.”Lacey snorted, and Roni sighed impatiently.“Well, sitting here whining about it isn’t gonna solve anything,” she said.
“Just try. Take a honeymoon. Even if it’s just a couple of days out of town. Take those two days. A fresh start. A new life. It’s more than a lot of people get.”Lacey shifted in her seat, her mouth twisting.“I’m not used to staying in one place too long,” she said.
“I’m not sure I’d feel safe, you know?”“There’s safety in being settled, too,” said Roni.
“There’s safety in family, and friends, and community.
Don’t let your past dictate your future, okay? People can change.
Life can be awesome.”Lacey smiled slightly at that, and glanced down at her tea, watching the ripples on the surface, the liquid a pale olive green.“Okay,” she said.
“I’ll try.”“Good.”
Roni sat back, sipping her tea.
“So are you and I going shopping for honeymoon underwear, or what?”Weaver walked along the hospital corridor, his footsteps seeming too loud on the tiles.
At that hour, the ward was relatively calm, the muted sounds of the intercom and the beeping of machines barely registering in his brain.
He reached the room he was seeking, opening up the door and halting in the doorway as he saw that he wasn’t the first visitor.David Nolan lay motionless in the hospital bed, a blue cotton sheet pulled over him and tubes snaking away from his body to machines at the side of the bed.
He looked the same as when he had first been put in this bed, one terrible night four months earlier.
Weaver had cried that night for the first time in years, weeping from guilt and grief.
Until Lacey had sought to comfort him, of course.
Funny how things worked out.Snow, Nolan’s wife, looked up from her place at his side.
A stroller was parked beside her, their baby son, Neal, fast asleep with a knitted hat pulled down over his head.
Snow’s eyes narrowed beneath short, dark hair, her mouth pursing a little.“I just came to see how he was,” said Weaver.“Well, he’s pretty much the same as yesterday,” she said bluntly.
“Or every other day he’s been in here.
What exactly were you expecting?”“A miracle, I guess,” he said simply, and Snow looked away.Weaver stepped inside and closed the door behind him.“Look,” he said quietly.
“You were right.
What you said that night.
I was reckless.”She turned her head back slowly, the artificial light gleaming on her hair.
There was anger and resentment in her eyes, and he couldn’t blame her.
But he had known Snow for several years, and he suspected she hated holding onto anger, however much he might deserve it.
He took a step forward.“You were right when you said the job was everything to me,” he went on.
“You were right when you said I cared about nothing else, that getting the job done was all that mattered.
You were right when you said I had nothing to lose, that if I died no one would miss me.”She lowered her eyes at that, her mouth flattening.“I shouldn’t have said that,” she said quietly.
“I was angry and heartbroken, and I’m sorry.”“No, it was the truth,” he insisted.
“If I’d gotten my brains blown out there would have been no one to mourn me but a bunch of cops and the local bartender.
Not like David, right?
He has a wife and a son and people that love him.
He has a family.
He’s the best person I’ve ever known, and if I could have traded places with him and let him go home with you that night, I would have.”She looked up at him again, her eyes softening a little.“I get it now,” he said gently.
“I just found out I’m gonna be a father, and I get it.
I have to change.
I will change.”Her eyes had widened, her mouth opened in confusion.“You’re - you’re having a baby?” she said, clearly puzzled.
“But—”“Lacey’s pregnant,” he explained.
“She came back, and we’re getting married.”“Oh.”
Snow blinked rapidly.
“I - I didn’t realise you two were an item.”“We’re not,” he said dryly.
“Or at least, we weren’t.
Not really.
This is all new to both of us.”He sighed, running a hand over his face as the enormity of his change in circumstances hit him like a punch to the gut.
Snow seemed unsure of what to say, but as always, slipped easily into making polite conversation.“Then I guess congratulations are in order,” she said.
“When is she due?”“August.”“Well, Neal will have grown out of his newborn things by then,” she said.
“Tell her she’s welcome to them.”“That’s kind of you.”“And if she has any questions about pregnancy and birth, she can call me anytime,” she added, and Weaver smiled faintly.“I’ll tell her,” he said.
“I think she could use your experience.
I’m reading a lot of baby websites, but I feel like I haven’t a bloody clue what I’m doing.”She almost smiled at that.“I’d also suggest taking some time for each other,” she said.
“David and I always tried to have some alone-time whenever we could.
You won’t have a minute to yourself when the baby comes, believe me.
So you have to remember you’re a couple as well as prospective parents.”“A couple,” he said flatly.
“Yeah.
Kind of a work in progress.”“You’re getting married,” she pointed out.“Not sure an unplanned pregnancy and a hasty wedding to a workaholic arsehole twice her age was exactly what Lacey intended to do with her life.”Snow gave him a look at that, but it was more sympathetic than judgemental.“Sometimes these things are meant to be,” was all she said.
“Are you going on honeymoon?”Weaver sighed.“No,” he said tiredly.
“She didn’t seem keen, and we haven’t had time to arrange anything, anyway.”Snow nodded, pursing her lips.“Well, you could always borrow our cabin,” she suggested.
“We keep it stocked, and someone goes in once a week to clean the place.
I know it’s not much, but—”“No, it’s - it’s perfect,” he said.
“I’ll see if I can convince her to go.”“Come by tomorrow and you can pick up the key.”“Thank you.”
He hesitated.
“Look, I meant what I said.
If I could have changed places with David and let him enjoy being a father, I would have.”“Well, like I said, maybe things are meant to be,” she said, with a sigh, glancing across at the motionless body of her husband.
“We’ll get through this, and we’ll be stronger for it.”“I admire your optimism,” he said.
I wished I shared it. He didn’t voice his doubts, but Snow seemed to sense them anyway, and smiled slightly.“Where there’s life, there’s hope,” she said.
“I’ve always thought that hope is the most powerful thing in the world.
I believe he’ll be okay.
I believe he’ll come back to us.”“I’m sure you’re right,” he said.
“And when he does, tell him he’s welcome to punch me in the face.”“Oh, I will.”They shared the briefest of smiles at that, and Weaver nodded to her, casting a final glance at Nolan before stepping out of the room and leaving the little family in peace.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Three years and eight months earlier
Thursday was cold and bright, the ever-present rain banished and replaced by a startlingly clear blue sky, frost riming the iron railings by Weaver’s apartment.
Roni had offered to let Lacey stay with her the night before the wedding, and she had shrugged and accepted, although she added that she didn’t believe in superstition, and she didn’t suppose that seeing each other before they did the deed would make any difference in the long run.
Weaver himself had spent the evening alone, having picked up the key to the Nolans’ cabin and gotten Lacey’s agreement to go there. Merida and Fa had gotten them presents, which sat unopened on the kitchen counter, awaiting their return from their brief honeymoon. He had packed food for the three days they planned to stay, picking up a bottle of champagne in the store before remembering that Lacey was pregnant, and pushing it back onto the shelf.
He hadn’t quite had time to get used to the fact that there was a baby on the way, and he thought perhaps that his subconscious was trying to pretend there wasn’t.
Not that he wasn’t happy at the idea, but he had seen too much of the darker side of humanity not to be worried about what any child of his might grow up to experience.
He told himself that he’d have to do the best he could to protect them, and pushed the worries from his mind, concentrating on the first step of his new life.In the end he had taken Lacey’s suggestion regarding his wedding outfit, and was wearing jeans, although they were new and black and fitted him well.
He wore them with a blue shirt and dark jacket, his heavy boots polished to a shine and his rings cleaned. Pushing each one onto its finger in turn, he eyed the space on his left hand, where a new piece of jewellery would soon sit.
He had taken Lacey to choose the wedding rings the day before, matching bands in white gold with Celtic knotwork running around them. She had refused his offer of an engagement ring, saying bluntly that it was stupid to spend money on something just to conform to other people’s expectations, but she seemed to like the wedding ring.
So there was that.He checked his reflection in the mirror, running a hand over his freshly-shaven chin and sighing to himself.
Not exactly the stuff of bloody dreams, but he’d have to do. A knock on the bedroom door made him look around, and it creaked open to reveal Merida’s red curls.“You ready?” she asked.
“We should probably get going.”The ceremony was being held in the waterfront garden of a hotel owned by a friend of Roni’s.
The hotel itself was undergoing renovation, and what would have been a pleasant silence was punctuated by the banging of hammers and the whistling of workmen as they replaced the main staircase inside.
Weaver thought the garden was pretty, a well-kept lawn bisected by a path leading to a wrought-iron pergola, thick with climbing plants. The plants were white with frost, and he was privately concerned that he and Lacey might freeze to death before they could say their vows, but he kept his mouth shut.
It was only fifteen minutes, after all.He waited with Fa and Merida, shifting from foot to foot in the cold air, and glanced around as Lacey came out with Roni at her side.
She had bought a new dress with the money he had given her, a simple, pretty thing in pale blue with a full skirt, a white faux fur shawl keeping the cold from her shoulders and a posy of white roses in her hands.
Her legs were in white stockings, her shoes the same pale blue as the dress, with a strap at the ankle.
His eyes widened at the sight of her, hair teased into curls and tied up, a few snaking loose to curl around her smooth cheeks and the nape of her neck, her lips deep pink. She ran her eyes over him as she got nearer, and one side of her mouth drew up.“You look good, Detective,” she said.“You look beautiful,” he said honestly, and her smile grew.“Okay lovebirds, let’s get you idiots married,” said Merida loudly.It was over so quickly it almost made his head spin.
He stumbled a little over the vows, but he meant every word, and Lacey shot him a brief smile before she said her own, although she stuttered over the ‘love’ part.
The ring was cold and unfamiliar on his finger, and he unconsciously rubbed at it with his thumb as Roni spoke the closing words and told him to kiss his bride. Lacey’s lips were soft and cool, and he touched his forehead to hers in a brief gesture of affection as he heard the clicking sounds of Fa and Merida taking pictures.
And then it was done. He was a married man.They went back to Roni’s for drinks, but he stuck with coffee while the others downed whisky.
Lacey had hot chocolate, a swirl of cream with a sprinkling of cinnamon on top, and when she had almost finished, Weaver went to find Roni, handing her a sheaf of bills.“Drinks are on me until that runs out,” he said.
“I think we’ll get away.”“Well, I hope you have a good time,” she said, as she took the money.
“I’m sure you will. I think you two will be okay.”“Yeah,” he said, glancing across to where Lacey was staring into her empty cup.
“I hope so. I’ll try to make her happy.”“I can draw you a useful diagram, if it would help,” she said, tucking the cash into her pocket and winking at him, and he sent her a look.“Thank you, but I think I can remember the basics.”“Well, I guess that’s a start,” she observed.
“Don’t forget to be happy yourself, while you’re at it.”He grinned, glancing towards the bar, where Merida was talking animatedly to Fa with extravagant hand gestures.“Do me a favour,” he said, jerking his head at them.
“Try to get one of those two to ask the other out, they’re driving me up the bloody wall.”“Since I’m playing Cupid today I’ll give it my best shot, but I warn you that of all the useless lesbians I’ve met, these two are by far the worst,” she said dryly.
“Now go bang your new wife.”Weaver gave her a flat look, walking over to where Lacey was staring into space.
She glanced across at him.“Are you wanting to head off?” she asked.“We can stay longer, if you like.”She shook her head.“I’m good.
How long’s the drive?”“An hour or so, depending on the traffic,” he said.“No point in hanging around, then.”She pushed to her feet, grasping his hand and calling goodbye to the others before tugging him towards the doorway.
Whoops from Merida followed them out, which made Lacey grin a little, but once outside she shivered in the cold air, and he quickly shrugged off his jacket, putting it around her shoulders.“Car’s just around the corner,” he said, and she tucked her arm through his as they walked swiftly.It was a relief to get out of the bitter wind, and there was silence for awhile as Weaver drove out of the city.
Lacey fiddled with the radio, eventually finding some music she liked, and settled back as the car turned onto a quieter road, tall pines flanking the edges and faint remnants of snow still visible in amongst the trees.
Lacey shifted in her seat, glancing across at him.“So,” she said.
“That was pretty painless, right?”“Were you expecting ordeal by fire, or something?” he remarked, and she chuckled.“I just meant it was - quick,” she said.
“No fuss, no expense, and we’re no less married than the people paying forty thousand bucks so their guests can have personalised party favours, or whatever.”He grinned at that.“I don’t think we’re personalised party favour kind of people.”“Got that right.”There was silence for a moment, and she looked out of the window, late afternoon sunlight sending flickering rays through the dark trunks of trees.“You’ve been to this place before, right?” she said.“Many times,” he confirmed.
“If Nolan and I had free time in the summer, we’d come up here, bring some meat to barbecue and drink beer by the lake.
Snow always brought whatever she’d been baking that week, and we’d get a little drunk and listen to music and talk about all sorts of crap.
It’s a nice little place. Few other cabins nearby, but enough space that you feel as though you’re on your own.”“I’m guessing it’s probably deserted at this time of year anyway.”“Probably,” he acknowledged, and glanced across at her.
“You don’t mind, do you? I could have driven us down to California, or something.”“I don’t mind,” she said, after a pause.
“A week ago I was bunked down on a packing crate, so it’s really no big deal.
I wasn’t expecting a honeymoon. I wasn’t expecting a wedding, let’s face it.”“What were you expecting?” he asked curiously, glancing across at her, and she shrugged, mouth pursing a little.“Don’t know,” she admitted.
“I - I didn’t really think things through.
I just knew I had to come back.”“Well, I’m glad you did,” he said, and turned the wheel into a long, winding bend as the car made its way up a hill.
“It’s not too much further.”He wanted to ask her about their time apart, why she had left in the middle of the night and not contacted him until four months later.
He wanted to ask about the night their child was conceived, whether she had regretted what they had done. Whether she had hated him for it.
He couldn’t find the words, though, and it didn’t seem the time, so he kept silent, his eyes on the road, and before too long he was turning off onto a narrow track covered in pine needles.
The track wound downhill amongst dark stands of pine trees, and turned out onto a flat, wide area where log cabins nestled in amongst the trees, the lake beyond catching the last rays of the sun in flickers of orange.Weaver pulled up outside the Nolans’ place, turning off the engine.
Lacey had been correct; the other cabins seemed deserted, and she was out of the car before he, nose raised to sniff the pine-scented air.
He took the overnight bag from the trunk, handing over hers and picking up a cardboard box of food before nudging the trunk shut. Lacey took the key from him, the heels of her shoes sinking into the mulch as she headed for the steps to the porch.
It had started to snow, large flakes drifting slowly to the ground around them, and she shivered as she looked around.“Bloody freezing,” she said, and unlocked the door.“Give me a few minutes and I can light a fire,” he said.The cabin was cold, but at least they were out of the bitter wind.
He set the box of food on a small table, then went to the hearth, looking around for kindling.Lacey left him to it, carrying the box of food he had brought into the small kitchen area.
It had a fridge (empty), hotplate and microwave, and cupboards filled with canned goods, dried rice and pasta, and boxes of cereal.
There were plates and cups, glasses and cutlery, and she spent a couple of minutes poking around before putting anything perishable into the fridge and heading out of the lounge area into a small, dark corridor.
Flicking on the lights, she found four doors, the first leading outside to the back porch. Closing it with a shiver, she tried the next, which revealed a bathroom, complete with tub and shower. Next to it was a bedroom with a wood-burning stove and a king bed covered in a pale blue woollen throw embroidered at the edges with tiny silk flowers.
She dropped her bag onto it, peeking at the room next door and finding another, smaller bedroom.From the sound of it, Weaver was still making the fire, so she tugged his jacket around herself and tried the back door again.
The porch was sheltered, two benches set each side of a small table with a view out over the lake,and she stood there for awhile, letting the cold air sink into her and watching her breath huff out in clouds of white as she scanned the quiet landscape.
She imagined that in the summer it must be nice to sit there and watch the sunset through the trees as the heat of the day faded and the chirps of birds were replaced by the buzz and whine of insects and the croaking of frogs. Now the woods were cold and silent, the snow soft as feathers against her cheeks as it fell, ice forming in pale fronds at the edges of the lake, where patches of old snow still clung.“You’ll catch your death out here.”Weaver’s voice behind her made her jump, and his hands steadied her, warm on her waist.“It’s kind of pretty,” she said.
“In a desolate sort of way. Like it’s all sleeping.
It’s colder up here than in the city, huh?”“Winter was longer than usual this year,” he remarked.
“And it clings on in the mountains. I could make you hot cocoa, if you like.”“You got a shot of bourbon to go in that?”She sent him a smile over her shoulder, to show she was joking, and he grinned.“No can do,” he said.
“But I don’t mind joining you in sobriety for the next five months, if it would help.”“Misery loves company?” she teased.“Marriage is a partnership.”“I’ll remind you of that when it’s four a.m. and the baby’s crying.”“Feel free.”She felt a rush of affection for him, and turned in his arms to twine hers around his neck, his jacket falling from her shoulders.
He was still smiling, and his head wobbled a little, as though he was extremely satisfied with something. His body was very warm, and she inched closer, until she was pressed up against him.“So,” she said.
“Married. On honeymoon.
Can mean only one thing.”She grinned wickedly, and his smile grew, his eyes glinting.“I did say you didn’t have to share a bed with me if you didn’t want to.”Lacey gave him a flat look.“You think I bought new underwear for no reason?” she asked.
“If I can’t have a drink to celebrate getting hitched, I’m at least expecting an orgasm or two.”He raised an eyebrow.“I’ll see what I can do.”“Good.”“You have to tell me if you don’t like something, though,” he added.
"In fact, tell me if you
do
like something, too."“Oh, I will.”
She raised her chin.
“You can kiss me if you like.”Weaver’s smile broadened, and he bent his head, his mouth finding hers.
It was harder than the kiss he had given her to seal their vows, and she was snatched back to the night they had last shared, to the night when he had laid her down and kissed her like it was his last night on earth.
To the night when he had made her see stars. It made her breath catch as he drew back, and she licked her lips, catching the faint taste of him.“Take me to bed,” she whispered.If he remembered that she had said the same thing to him four months ago, he didn’t react beyond a faint smile and a nod.
He took a step back, holding the door open to let her inside, and closed and locked it behind them. Lacey made her way through to the bedroom, noting that he had lit a fire in the wood-burning stove, flames crackling around the split logs in there.
He had turned on the two bedside lamps that sat on the matching nightstands, and a warm glow was filling the room as the heat from the fire began to build. She went to rummage in her bag, taking out a hairbrush and crossing to the little dresser, where she proceeded to take the pins from her hair where Roni had teased her curls into a loose bun.Weaver closed the door behind him with a faint click, waiting as she brushed out her hair until it shone, reddish highlights gleaming in the lamplight
After a moment of standing there, unsure of what to do, he bent to unlace his boots, tugging them off with his socks and setting them next to the door. The wooden floor was cold beneath his bare toes, but the room was starting to warm, and Lacey let the faux fur shawl slip from her shoulders, draping it over the back of the single chair that sat before the dresser.
He watched his wife in the mirror as she removed her earrings, and she turned her head a little, sweeping her hair to one side as she glanced over her shoulder at him.

My wife.
She’s my wife.
How the fuck did that happen? “Unzip me?”Weaver stepped closer, reaching up to touch her, fingertips brushing the nape of her neck and making her shiver.
He drew the zipper down, the sound seeming loud in the silence of the room, and she met his eyes in the mirror as he pushed the dress from her shoulders, gently drawing the cap sleeves down her arms.
He pushed the dress over her hips until it pooled on the floor at her feet as she stepped out of it, and let out a tiny growl as her body was revealed to him, pale curves hugged by powder-blue lace, the darker peaks of her nipples showing through.
Her legs were perfection, stockings topped with white lace clinging to them, and he watched as she flicked open the buckles to her heeled shoes and kicked them off before straightening up, the light gleaming on her pale skin.Lacey sucked in a breath as he cupped her gently, and he bent his head to kiss her shoulder, one warm hand sliding down to where her belly curved outwards a little.
She could feel the slight roughness on his chin where fresh stubble was starting to grow, a contrast to the softness of his lips. Cold air kissed her skin, raising goosebumps on her arms, and she rubbed her head against his, closing her eyes as she felt his hands slide back up to her shoulders, teasing the thin straps of her bra.“Take it off,” she said softly.He kissed her again, hands dropping to the catch at the back, and she waited patiently as he fumbled with it.“Fucking thing,” he muttered, and Lacey grinned.“You want me to do it?”“No, it’s fine, I — bloody hell, woman, does this thing have a combination lock?”Lacey rolled her eyes, reaching behind to unhook the bra and let it fall, and Weaver grunted.“Well, I guess you’re used to it.”“Practice makes perfect,” she said with a grin, turning to face him, and her grin widened as he ran his eyes over her.
“Come on, Detective, warm me up, would you?”He reached up to cup her face, fingers sliding into her hair, and Lacey moaned as their mouths met, his lips warm and soft.
She went to work on the buttons of his shirt, plucking them open and sliding her hands inside over his naked chest. He was smooth and firm, just as she remembered, and she tugged him a little closer, Weaver groaning into her mouth as the kiss deepened.
He let his hands drop, shrugging out of the shirt and letting it fall, and broke the kiss, his breath coming hard and his chest heaving as he pressed his brow to hers. His hands ran down her back and over her buttocks, tugging her against him so that his belt buckle dug into her belly, and he pulled his mouth from hers to kiss down her neck, sending a shudder of pleasure through her.He bent to scoop her up in his arms, tossing her onto the bed, and Lacey pushed up on her elbows, watching as he unbuckled his belt and flicked open the buttons of his jeans.
He let them fall, and she licked her lips, running her eyes over the lean lines of his arms and chest and the slight softness of his belly, watching the silver chain around his neck glinting in the light.
His nipples were hard, dark peaks, and she wanted to run her tongue over them, to taste his skin and breathe him in as he pushed inside her. He crawled onto the bed, and his eyes were dark and deep, searching out hers as he reached for her, his fingers sliding over one cheek and into her hair.Lacey moaned into his mouth as he laid her down and kissed her hard, his tongue pushing in between her lips, stabbing and stroking, his hands caressing her face, the chain he wore cold against the base of her throat.
She let her fingers slide up his back, stroking over hot skin, need for him burning through her, and he shifted his body to the side, one hand sliding down to cup her breast. She groaned and arched upwards, pushing against his palm, and he kissed down her throat, tongue stroking over her skin as his mouth sought her nipple.
Lacey gasped as he sucked at her, letting her head roll back against the pillows, and she opened her legs a little, eager for his touch.Weaver swirled his tongue over her nipple, tasting a faint hint of roses on her skin from the lotion she used.
She was breathing hard, her chest heaving, and he kissed lower, lips brushing over the slight curve of her belly where his child was growing.
He pressed tender kisses to her, shivering as he felt her fingers stroke through his hair, and slid his hands up her hips to grasp the thin waistband of her lace thong.
Lacey lifted her hips a little, allowing him to draw it down, and he let out a low growl as she was revealed to him, the soft cleft between her legs glistening with fluid.He slipped the thong down her legs and off at her feet, pushing his boxers down over his hips and tossing them aside before kneeling between her legs and sliding his hands up her inner thighs.
The lace of her stocking-tops scraped against his palms, and he pushed her thighs apart, bending to run his tongue along the crease at the top of her thigh. Lacey let out a gasp, fingers tightening in his hair, and he nuzzled her with his nose, breathing in the scent of her arousal.
His tongue flickered out to catch a taste of her, stroking up between her legs, and she let out a cry, arching her back.He let out a low groan of pleasure at the taste of her, salt and musk on his lips, and swept his tongue over her flesh, sliding in between her soft folds, the tip just brushing the hard pearl of her clit.
Lacey moaned, nails scraping his scalp, and he let his tongue swirl in circles, stroking against her, feeling her move beneath him as he found his rhythm. His hand slid up her inner thigh, one finger slipping through wet flesh to tease her, pushing inside her, and Lacey bent one knee, sliding her foot across his shoulders, letting his mouth reach more of her.
He groaned and buried his face in her, finger pushing deep into her soft, wet heat as his tongue swirled and stroked, and he could hear her panting, could feel her tensing beneath him. He licked her, the flat of his tongue scraping her over and over, and Lacey jerked against him with a cry as she came, hot fluid bathing his tongue as he drew out the finger and sucked her pleasure from it.
He pushed his tongue inside her, groaning as he licked up every drop, and Lacey stroked his hair with shaking hands, gasping for breath.Encouraged by her response, he smiled against her skin, pressing kisses to her, lips trailing across to her hip before making his way back up her body.
He was almost painfully hard, his balls full and aching, and the urge to get inside her was overwhelming. She was watching him through heavy-lidded eyes, perfect breasts rising and falling with her breath, and his mouth fastened over her nipple as she moaned in pleasure.
He sucked at her, tongue circling as his lips tugged at her skin, and he let the nipple slip from his mouth, glistening with saliva as he kissed his way upwards to nip at her earlobe.Lacey closed her eyes, skin still tingling from her climax, enjoying the feel of his touch and the scent of him drifting into her nose.
Their first time had been half-drunk and frenzied, messy and desperate and wonderful, and she was looking forward to taking some time with him, to exploring and reconnecting and learning with him.
Weaver shifted, moving to the side of her and sliding one hand down over her belly to slip into the slippery heat between her legs. Lacey moaned, head pushing back against the pillows as he slipped a finger inside her.
He pushed in another, sinking up to the knuckles, thumb flickering over her clit, and she let out a cry, pushing against him.“That’s good!” she whispered.
“Oh God, give me more! Make it harder!”He pushed another finger into her, stretching her, sliding deep, and she moaned at the feel of it, remembering how it felt to have him inside her.
The fingers began to thrust in and out, his thumb circling her clit, and she could feel the throb of her pulse as her arousal grew, sensations rising up within her.
His tongue teased her ear, his breath hot, sending shivers through her as he pushed and thrust.“You feel fucking incredible, Lacey!” he whispered.
“Let me feel you come! I want it running down my fingers!”She moaned, pushing against his hand, and he quickened his pace a little, fingers sliding in and out of her, his thumb sending jolts of sensation through her with every pass over her clit.
She matched his pace, hips bucking as she rode his hand, her moans increasing in pitch as she felt a wave of pleasure rise up, and she broke with a loud cry, bliss washing over her. He buried his face in her neck with a low groan, lips sucking at her skin as his movements slowed, and then pushed up on one elbow, gently drawing out his fingers with a wet, sucking sound.Lacey tried to catch her breath as she watched him slip the fingers into his mouth and suck her juices from them, his eyes meeting hers.
She licked her lips, glancing down to where he was pressed against her hip in a rigid line, and reached up to touch his face, fingers raking through his hair.“I want you,” she whispered.He sent her a brief smile, and shifted position again, one knee lifting over hers until he was lying between her legs.
She let her hands run over him, fingers catching in the chain around his neck and trailing over his chest, and his jaw tightened as she brushed his nipples.
Weaver kissed along her jaw, mouth finding hers as one hand cradled her head. His skin was damp and sticky with her fluids, his stubble scraping her chin as his lips pushed hers apart, and she let her tongue stroke his, feeling him hard against her thigh.
Her heart was thumping, and she shifted her hips a little, trying to capture the head of his cock. He took his weight on one arm and reached between them, hand sliding down between her legs to grasp himself, and she let out a sound of approval as he pushed up against her.Weaver was lost in the feel of her, the heat of her skin and the sheen of sweat forming between them, the firm roundness of her breasts pressing against his chest.
He was pushing against the soft, wet heat between her legs, and Lacey let out a tiny sound of pleasure as he eased inside her, the sensation making him grit his teeth.
He let out a long, low groan as he sank into her, flesh like silk against him, and she lifted a knee, letting him push deeper. “Fuck!” he gasped, and she let out a throaty giggle, eyes sparkling as they met his.He slipped a hand behind her knee, tugging it higher, thrusting into her as deep as he could go, his balls rubbing against her as he pushed inside, and Lacey wrapped her legs around him, tilting her head until her mouth caught his.
A low, bass hum rumbled out of him at the taste of her, and he moved his hips in a slow circle, rubbing against her, sliding in and out. Lacey pulled her mouth free, head rolling back as she moaned.“Fuck, that’s good!” she breathed.
“Harder! Fuck me harder!”He almost lost his mind, and bit down hard on the inside of his cheeks to try to keep it together.
Lacey was arching upwards, thighs gripping him tight and the lace of her stockings scratching pleasantly, and he ran his hands up her arms, grasping her wrists and pushing them into the pillows as he thrust into her.
She moaned, writhing, and he ran his tongue up the length of her throat to taste the salt of her sweat. Her moans were growing louder, and he could feel himself nearing his peak, pleasure stealing through him and making his skin tingle.
He bit down into her neck, swiping his tongue over the bite and kissing up to her ear.“Fuck, you feel amazing!” he whispered.
“Gotta come, Lacey! Gotta come inside you!”Lacey could feel him deep within her, thick and rigid, rubbing against her as he thrust, and she held her breath, moving her hips against him, increasing the friction, willing him to come.
She was close, she knew it, and she pushed up against him, squeezing him tight as his body trembled on the edge, the muscles of his arms and chest taut and straining. She felt him come, a loud groan bursting from him as his cock pulsed and heat seemed to flood into her, and she cried out as she followed him, pumping her hips, pulling every drop from him.
His hands were tight on her wrists, his thrusts fast and shallow, and she let a wave of pleasure drench her, electricity coursing over her skin. He finally slowed and stopped, letting out a deep, shuddering gasp, and released her wrists, letting his head drop.For a moment there was silence except for their panting, ragged breathing.
The room seemed very warm, the heat between them making Lacey feel lazy and contented, and she smiled, reaching up to stroke her fingers through his damp hair as they tried to catch their breath.“Well,” she murmured.
“Married life’s okay so far, I guess.”He raised his head at that, a lazy grin pulling his mouth up at one corner, and pushed himself up on his elbows a little more so that he could look down at her.
She could still feel him inside her, but he was shrinking, and she unwound her legs from around his back, letting him slip from her. He was staring at her with a softness in his expression, a deep affection that inexplicably made her want to push him away, to run and not look back. She licked dry lips, heart thumping, and told herself to calm the fuck down.Weaver couldn’t remember ever feeling as contented as he did right then.
Their bodies were hot and sticky, slippery with sweat and their own fluids.
Lacey’s dark curls were spread out on the pillow, her cheeks flushed and her lips swollen from their kisses, and he thought she was the beautiful thing he had ever seen in his life.
His entire body was still humming from his orgasm, his limbs heavy and loose, and he reached up to stroke a stray curl from her cheek, leaning in to press his brow to hers. Affection burst up out of him, and he nuzzled her nose with his own.“Oh, Lacey!” he whispered.
“I’m glad you came back. I missed you.”Lacey seemed to freeze momentarily, and then she pushed at him, turning her head away from his, her mouth twisting.“Don’t - make it weird,” she muttered.Blinking in confusion, he rolled to the side and let her slip from the bed, watching as she snatched up his shirt and tugged it on before ducking out of the bedroom.
The bathroom door closed with a click of the lock, and he sat there for a moment, trying to work out what he’d done to make her bolt and coming up with very little that made any sense.
Shaking his head, he got up, snatching up his boxers and pulling them on, along with his jeans. He really wanted a drink, but he’d promised to lay off the booze with her, and so he figured he’d make that hot cocoa after all.
Perhaps it would stop him over-analysing everything.She was still in the bathroom when he went out, the relative chill of the corridor making him shiver.
The lounge was warmer, the fire having settled down into a pleasant blaze, and he put another couple of logs on it to keep it going, poking them into place and making sparks jump and dance.
He could hear water running in the bathroom, and after a moment Lacey came through, rubbing lotion into her hands and not quite meeting his eyes.“You okay?” he asked carefully, and she nodded, shifting from foot to foot.She seemed to be having some sort of internal conversation with herself, and he waited for her to say what was on her mind.
A piece of wood snapped in the fire, and Lacey finally turned on her toes to face him.“Okay, here’s the thing,” she said.
“I - uh - I have a request. It’s - it’s a little thing, but I think I need to tell you about it, okay?”“Go on,” he said, and she took a deep breath.“I know you care about me,” she said.
“I know this wasn’t what you planned, what you wanted, but I know you care about me.
I care about you too, I do. We were friends before anything else. We’re still friends, and - and we’ll be more than that, I know it.”He gave her a tiny smile.“Yeah, I do care about you,” he agreed.
“And no, maybe this wasn’t what either of us planned when we first met, but that doesn’t mean we can’t make it work, okay?
I want to make it work.
For both of us. For the baby.”Lacey smiled a little, and there was a tenderness in her eyes he was not used to seeing.
She took a step closer.“You’re a good man,” she said softly.
“And I’m happy to be married to you, Rafe, I am.
I’m gonna try to be a good wife, and a good mother, and I want to make you happy, too.
I want to make you coffee in the mornings and share your bed and fall asleep beside you after a night of awesome sex, I swear it.”He sensed that she hadn’t finished, that there was something else she wanted to say.
Something she was steeling herself for. He was racking his brains to think what it might be, and she took a deep breath, raising her chin.“Just - please,” she said.
“Please. Don’t ever tell me you love me.”He could feel his mouth fall open.
Whatever he had been expecting her to say, that wasn’t it.“Okay,” he said, bewildered.
“Uh - why not?”“Does it matter?” she asked.
“It’s just words, right?”He opened and closed his mouth, but didn’t respond, and she nodded.“Good,” she said, and stepped forward, stretching up on her toes to kiss him before dropping back on her heels with a grin on her face.
“You wanna have sex again?”He stared at her, and shook his head numbly.“I - uh - think I’ll make that cocoa.”“Okay, cool.”
She ran her hands over his chest, still smiling.
“Come back to bed when it’s ready, I’m not done with you yet.”She winked at him, and took a step back, turning to head for the bedroom, hips swaying as she walked.
He watched her go, his heart thumping hard in his chest, and realised that he barely understood a single thing about her.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Present day
David Nolan had always made good coffee, and Weaver cupped his hands around the mug in front of him, inhaling the warm, comforting scent of it as his elbows rested on the kitchen table.
Nolan was watching him, sipping at his coffee, and he put down his cup, sitting back in the wheelchair and fixing Weaver with a calm gaze.“So,” said Nolan.
“What are you gonna do about Lacey?
And don’t tell me you’re going through with this divorce you don’t want, because that’s just crazy.”“Well, it’s not like I can force her to stay with me, is it?” said Weaver, feeling weary.“Not saying you should,” said Nolan.
“I’m just saying you should at least know why you’re getting divorced. You two have always been so close, what happened?”“I don’t know.”
Weaver sat back, running his hands over his face.
“You say we’ve been close, but I don’t know. I’ve known her four years and it still feels like I don’t know who the hell she is.”“So ask.”
Nolan sipped at his coffee again.
“What have you got to lose?”Weaver shook his head, turning his attention back to his drink.
The kitchen door opening spared him having to answer, and Tilly bustled in with a large piece of paper in her hands.“Daddy look, I drawed this!” she announced, slapping it on his lap.Weaver picked her up, hauling her onto his knee with one arm while he grasped the drawing between the thumb and fingers of his other hand.
A black scrawl with spindly lines coming out of it, which Weaver suspected was a person, was on one side of the paper, with a mass of red and orange on the other.“That’s fantastic,” he said, with enthusiasm.
“Is that a bonfire?”She craned her neck to look at him, brows drawing down a little.“It’s Dragon!” she said indignantly.“Yes, of course,” he said, running a hand over his face.
“I’m sorry, sweetie. Daddy’s very tired, and it makes him blind and stupid.
Who’s that?”He pointed at the black scrawl, and Tilly looked down at it.“Dragon breathed fire on the bad man,” she announced.
“Burned him all up.”“That seems a little harsh, but perhaps he deserved it.”
Weaver bounced her on his knee, thoughts suddenly needling his brain.
“Is this the bad man you told me about the other day?”She shrugged a little, then nodded.“What did he do?”Tilly pursed her lips, brow crinkling.“Bad,” she said decidedly, smacking the paper, and Weaver grinned.“You don’t know, you just have a hunch,” he guessed.
“Always trust your gut, sweetheart.”“Goes squelch,” she announced, patting her belly, and he chuckled.“Not quite what I meant, but okay.”
He kissed the top of her head. “Are you gonna draw some more for me and your Uncle David?”“Okay.”
She looked up at him owlishly.
“I draw you and Mummy.”She slipped from his lap and trotted from the room, the drawing flapping from one hand.
Weaver watched her go, stray thoughts needling his brain again. Trust your gut. He picked up his coffee, gulping some of it down, and caught Nolan’s eye.“Hey, would you mind watching the kids alone for awhile?” he asked.
“I think you’re right. I think I need to talk to Lacey, and it would probably be best if Tilly wasn’t with us.”Nolan seemed to relax a little, sinking back in his chair.“Good,” he said sincerely.
“Take your time. And stay for dinner when you get back.
I’ll call Snow and tell her you and Tilly are joining us.”Weaver nodded and drained his cup, clapping Nolan on the shoulder as he stood up.“I owe you one,” he said quietly.
“See you later.”He drove back into the city, frustration and bitterness welling up inside him.
What the hell was going on with her? What had happened to make her decide that she no longer wanted them to be a family?
Nolan was right: something had changed, and he was determined to get to the bottom of it. As usual, the prospect of a mystery to solve gave him a hit of adrenaline, a much-needed kick to the rear end to propel him out of the well of self-pity he had fallen into.
Now he had something to focus on. Now he had something to solve.He parked up outside his old apartment building, hands resting on the wheel as he remembered the first time she had come there.
She had been homeless and out of work: a wary young thing with narrowed eyes and quick feet, poised on her toes as though she was about to flee any moment.
He had fed her Chinese, and she had eaten most of his as well as her own. Looking back, it had been then that they had become friends, that she had started to trust him. He wondered where that trust had gone.Frustration warred with concern for her, and it made him edgy, slamming the car door when he got out and taking the stairs two at a time to reach the third floor.
He rapped quickly on the door before he could think about it, and there was the rattle of the chain as she opened it and peered out. She blinked in surprise, but said nothing, merely closing the door and taking off the chain to let him in.“Where’s Tilly?” she asked, as he strode into the apartment.
“What happened?”“Nolan’s watching her,” he said tersely.
“She’s fine, I just - I need to talk to you.”“What about?”Weaver turned to face her, trying to catch his breath.
She was wearing one of her little sweater dresses, dark purple wool hugging her curves, her hair bouncing around her shoulders.
Perfect.
She’s perfect.
God, I don’t want to lose her! “Did you file the papers yet?” he asked, and Lacey looked at him with narrowed eyes.“Why?” she asked suspiciously.“Would you answer me, please?” he demanded.
“Did you file the papers?”“No,” she said, after a pause.
“Not yet. I - I had things to—”“Let me see them,” he interrupted, holding out his hand.“Why?” she asked again, and he sighed with impatience.“Please.”Lacey eyed him warily, but crossed to the little table where her purse sat, taking the folded sheaf of papers from it and holding it out.
Weaver took them, opened them up briefly, and nodded his head. All there, complete with his signature. Still missing hers. He refolded them, met Lacey’s eyes, and roughly tore the papers into pieces, tossing them aside.
Lacey let out a squeak of alarm.“What are you doing?”“What does it look like?” he snapped.
“I changed my mind!”“No no no, you can’t!”She sank down onto her heels, gathering up the pieces of paper, her lip trembling as she straightened up with them in her hands, spilling over her fingers.
Scraps of paper fluttered to the floor like confetti as she gazed up at him, her chest heaving and tears welling in her eyes.“You’re gonna ruin everything!”“What, more than getting a divorce when I don’t bloody want one?” he snapped.
“I’ll take my bloody chances!”“No, you don’t understand…”“You’re right, I don’t bloody understand!” he said.
“I don’t understand because you won’t bloody talk to me! What is it, Lacey? What is it that’s making you do this? And don’t give me that ‘it’s just not working out’ bullshit!
This came out of the fucking blue and if we’re really over I need answers, okay?
I need - I need closure!”Lacey shook her head, two tears tracking their way down her cheeks.
The sight of them made his heart clench, but he resisted the urge to go to her, to take her in his arms and comfort her.
She closed her eyes, two more tears spilling over.“Would you just fucking talk to me?” he demanded.
“What’s wrong?”“I can’t tell you!” she blurted, and he growled in frustration.“See, here we are a-fucking-gain!” he snapped.
“Not can’t tell.
Won’t tell!
Whatever it is, why the hell do you think you can’t tell me?
We bloody well met when you were running from a murder scene, for fuck’s sake!
We moved in together when your shit of a boss beat you up!
What, now you think that whatever crap is happening in your life, I won’t be able to help?
Give me a fucking break!”“I don’t want your help!”“Well, I don’t want to live apart from my wife and daughter!” he said angrily.
“I guess we’ll both have to be fucking adults and deal with things that make us unhappy, alright?
I don’t want to lose the love of my fucking life over something I don’t even fucking understand!”Lacey stared at him, wide-eyed, and he wanted to sigh.
Right.
I used the L-word.
Ah, bollocks to it! “Don’t look at me like I just insulted your entire existence!” he snapped.
“I’ve spent the past four years not telling you how I fucking feel, and I’m sick of it!
If it’s over, if we’re over, then what the hell do I have to lose? I’m gonna tell you what I think and how I feel, and I want you to do the same, okay?
I need to know, don’t you understand that?”“Why can’t you just let me go?” she pleaded, and Weaver shook his head vehemently.“I love you!” he snapped.
“I don’t - I don’t care if you don’t want to fucking hear it, Lacey, I fucking love you! And you know I love Tilly. You two are the most important things in this whole stinking world, and I’m damned if I’ll let this marriage go without at least fucking trying to make it work, do you hear me?”She was staring at him, eyes huge in their sorrow, wide and scared and tear-soaked, and he let his anger and heartbreak pour out into the room, let his words tumble over themselves as they flowed out of him.“So no,” he went on.
“I’m not ready to sign the bloody papers, and no, I’m not ready to let you walk out of my life and rip my fucking heart out of my chest, okay?
I don’t want to get fucking divorced!
I don’t want to see my daughter every few days like I’m a bad bloody father or I’m being fucking punished for something!
I want to try to fix whatever the hell is broken, and I can’t do that until you tell me what the fucking problem is!”She was silent, her lower lip trembling, and she shook her head numbly.
Weaver sighed, running his hands over his face and trying to calm himself.“I’m not asking to move back in,” he said, more quietly.
“I’m not asking you for anything other than honesty, Lacey.
I just want you to be honest with me, for God’s sake.
Please!”She swallowed hard, closing her eyes, and more tears ran down her cheeks.
He sighed again, stepping closer, and reached up to stroke her hair. She pushed her head into his hand a little; it was a tiny gesture, but enough to let him know his touch was welcome, and so he moved closer, lifting both hands to cup her face.
Her skin was soft against his palms, wet with her tears. He hushed her gently, and Lacey bit back a sob, her body trembling. His thumbs stroked her cheeks, brushing away the tears that fell.“Please don’t cry,” he said gently.
“Please, sweetheart, just talk to me.”She shook her head, and he tamped down his frustration, leaning in to kiss her forehead.
Lacey hiccoughed miserably, her hands rising up to sit at his waist, and he kissed her again, pressing soft lips against her eyelids and tasting the salt of her tears.
She drew in a shuddering breath, raising her head, lips brushing against his cheek before finding his mouth, her hands sliding up his back as she kissed him urgently. He let his fingers slide into her hair, groaning as her tongue stroked against his, but after that first taste he pulled back, his hands still cupping her face, his breathing ragged.“We need to talk,” he whispered.
“I’m serious.”Lacey swallowed, eyes flicking up to meet his, and she nodded a little reluctantly.“I know,” she said.
“I know we do, it’s just - can we have this?
Can we just have this?”She rose up on her toes to let her mouth find his, pressing herself against him, fingers tightening on the backs of his shoulders, and Weaver deepened the kiss, eyes closed, wanting it to last.
Her hands slipped back down to his waist, running up over his chest, and she started to tug at the buttons of his shirt, getting it open and pushing it from his shoulders along with his jacket. He let them fall, dropping his hands to shake them free of the sleeves, and ran his palms up her thighs beneath the hem of her dress, pushing it up her body.
Lacey broke the kiss, stepping back to tug it over her head before reaching for him again, and Weaver groaned at the sight of her, pale curves cupped by black lace. She reached behind her to unhook her bra, tossing it aside, her hands reaching out to slide up his chest, and he bent his head to hers, the kiss growing urgent, fingers twisting in her hair as he tugged her close.He was aware that she was trying to distract him, that she didn’t want to talk about whatever it was that had scared her, and the thought of it was painful, a stabbing sensation deep in his chest.
It hurt that she didn’t trust him, that she couldn’t open up to him, that she was using his hurt and misery to divert his attention from whatever she was mixed up in. It hurt that a part of him didn’t care as long as he could hold her. Her fingers were digging into his chest with the urgency of their embrace, nails sinking into his skin, and his tongue stabbed at her, pushing into her mouth, making her moan.
She slid her hands higher, fingers sliding into his hair, tugging his head down on hers, and he pulled his mouth from hers with a gasp, kissing down her neck, sucking on her skin and making her push against him.“Bed?” he whispered, and felt her shake her head.“Here!” she gasped.
“Take me here! Pull me down on the floor and fuck me like you used to!”He growled in response, letting his legs fold, falling onto his back and pulling her with him.
The impact almost knocked the breath from him, but he rolled, pushing her onto her back on the lounge rug.
Lacey was panting, gazing up at him through sleepy eyes, and he pushed up on his knees, reaching for the waistband of her tights and underwear and pulling down as one.
She pulled her feet free, drawing up her knees, and rose up a little to grasp his belt, tugging it open. Getting his jeans and boots off was a frenzied, awkward scramble, but they managed it, and he put his hands on her shoulders, pressing her down into the rug as he parted her thighs with his own.She reached up to kiss him, her mouth hot and hungry, falling back against the rug with a cry as he entered her roughly, and Weaver let out a low, deep groan of pleasure, her soft wet flesh closing up around him.
She had arched her back, breasts pushing into his chest, and he slid his hands down to cup them, squeezing as he began to thrust, rolling his hips, grinding against her. Lacey moaned, drawing up her knees to grip his sides with her inner thighs, and he pushed deeper, gasping at the way she gripped and held him, at the way her flesh tugged at him as he moved.
Her hands slid around his back, nails scraping at his skin and sending shivers through him, and he groaned again, pushing deep, his hands sliding up her arms. His fingers slipped through hers, pushing her hands down into the rug beside her head, and Lacey was moaning and writhing, her hips lifting to meet him.“Yes!” she whispered.
“Oh God, please!”He bent to draw his tongue up her throat, a hint of her salt on soft skin, closing his eyes as he moved inside her.
She was soft as velvet, wonderfully wet, and he could feel the sensations rising up within him, his muscles growing taut as his pace quickened.
Lacey whimpered, moving her hips against his to increase the friction, and suddenly she came with a cry, her flesh tugging at him, her body arching into his.
The feel of it was too much, and he let go with a long, low groan, bright lights bursting in his head as he came hard, pushing deep inside her, his cock pulsing.
She moaned, nuzzling his ear with her nose, teeth nipping the lobe, her cheek burning hot against his own.He slowed his thrusts, releasing her hands and resting on his elbows as he tried to catch his breath.
Lacey had sunk back into the rug, her breathing ragged, and he kissed her neck, inhaling deeply to draw the scent of her inside him.
He was still buried within her, her heat surrounding him, and she lifted her hands to stroke her fingers up his sides, a gentle caress.
Her touch was somewhat hesitant, and he raised his head to gaze down on her, his fingers gently stroking stray hairs back from her face. Blue eyes stared into his, wide and troubled and heavy with some emotion he couldn’t quite interpret.
Tears still glistened on her cheeks, and he pressed his brow to hers.“I love you, Lacey,” he whispered.
“I love you.”“Please,” she said softly.
“Please don’t.”He sighed, and nuzzled her nose with his.“Okay,” he said.
“But you know, right?
You know.”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Four years earlier
The Greyhound bus drew to a stop with a loud hiss from the hydraulics, and Lacey came out of her doze with a jerk.“Storybrooke!” said the driver curtly, and her eyes widened as she pushed out of her seat, grabbing her backpack and coat and pulling them on.She was the only one to alight, the bus stop little more than a single shelter at the end of a well-lit main street.
It was colder than in Seattle, and snow covered the sidewalks, a few flakes drifting down as the bus drove off. Lacey shivered, pulling on her coat and hat and wrapping a scarf around her neck before shouldering her backpack.
She looked around warily, but the street was almost empty, the only figures she could see two people hurrying along with their heads bowed and coat collars turned up against the stiff wind.Shoving her hands into her pockets, she turned away from the main street, taking a side road which she knew cut across town and onto the trail up into the woods.
She wanted to avoid the busier roads as much as she could, preferring to keep to the shadows until she reached her destination. Not that she suspected any threat from the usual residents of Storybrooke, not really, but she had learned that it paid to be careful.The snow was thicker on the trail, undisturbed except for a single set of footprints, and Lacey hurried along, shivering a little as the cold air bit at her exposed skin.
It was dark, the only light coming from the rising moon, and she stumbled a little on the rough track, arms flying out to steady herself before she hurried on.Eventually the trail split, and she took the narrower path off to the right, heading over a ridge and down into a valley where the trees met a high fence.
Lacey looked around warily, but could see no threat, and so she began to climb, feet ringing a little on the metal links. The fence was built to deter wildlife rather than people, and she vaulted over the top with ease, landing in a crouch on the soft snow beneath.
Hugging the fence, she made her way swiftly around to the north, and a large house loomed out of the darkness, warm lights spilling onto a wide paved area that stepped down to neatly-kept gardens. There was no way to get to the house without leaving a trail, but the snow was falling again, and so Lacey decided to chance it.She sprinted across the snow-covered grass, arriving at the kitchen door a little breathless, and put her ear to it.
Silence. A brief turn of the handle opened the door, and Lacey slipped inside and into blessed warmth that made her sigh in relief.The kitchen was clean and empty, stainless steel surfaces gleaming, and she made her way swiftly through and up the narrow flight of stairs that led to the floor above.
The floor creaked a little under her feet, and she moved quickly, stepping on her toes until she reached the third door on the right. Opening it up, she slipped inside a large, high-ceiling bedroom, the walls papered in blue and a thick patterned rug covering the polished floorboards.
A bed was against the far wall, twin lamps sending out a pleasant light, and Lacey heaved a breath as she looked on the figure that lay there.It had been months since she had last visited, and guilt gnawed at her, but she told herself it was highly unlikely she had been missed.
The woman in the bed had once been vibrant and beautiful, with kind eyes and an infectious smile, but was now gaunt and too pale, her cheeks sunken and her hair thin and brittle.
A machine beside the bed was letting out a rhythmic beep as it tracked the beat of her heart, and bags of fluid hung from a stand, plastic tubes snaking beneath the sheets. Lacey crept nearer, slipping off her backpack and easing into the chair beside the bed.
The woman’s arm was thin, the bones in her hand clearly visible through paper-thin skin, fingers curled into a claw on the white sheet. Lacey reached out, folding her own hand around it, and the woman’s eyes flickered and opened.“Hey Grandma,” whispered Lacey.
“It’s me.”Her grandmother’s mouth twitched a little, as though she was trying to smile, and Lacey beamed, hoping to encourage her, to comfort her.
Marie d’Avonlea had been the one force for good in her life, however ineffective, and she owed her some comfort, some love. She owed her that much.“Doesn’t look as though much has changed around here,” she added.
“You’re looking beautiful. Does Mrs Potts still make that lobster pot pie I used to like?”Marie smiled with her eyes, but they were unfocused, and Lacey wondered if she even realised her granddaughter was there.
Perhaps the waking world was like a dream to her. She hoped so. She hoped her dreams were good.“I know I’ve been away for awhile, but I’ve been working,” she added.
“Busy like a bee, you know me. Never in one place for too long. Except this time.
Maybe that was the problem. Maybe I shouldn’t have stayed. But it was nice, you know?
It was nice to feel safe, just for awhile.”Marie’s eyes had closed, and Lacey squeezed her hand.“Anyway, I’m back,” she whispered.
“I don’t know how long I can stay, but for now I’m back.”Marie didn’t respond, and Lacey released her hand, letting out a sigh as she settled back in the chair.
It had been a long four days on the buses she had taken, and she had gotten little sleep. She curled her legs under her, hugging a cushion to her chest, and closed her eyes.
It wouldn’t hurt to get a little rest.A clattering noise made her eyes flick open, and almost immediately pain lanced through her hip.
Lacey grimaced, shifting her position to something more comfortable and letting the circulation return to the leg that had been folded under her.
There was a rattling outside the door, and her eyes widened as the doorknob turned. A quick glance around showed few hiding places, but she leapt up anyway, stumbling on stiff legs as the door opened.The sight of a plump old woman pushing an aluminium frame cart made her sag in relief, and she sent her an uncertain smile.“Hey, Mrs Potts.”The housekeeper’s mouth fell open, white hair swept up on top of her head as always, glasses perched on her nose.“Miss Belle, as I live and breathe!” she gasped.
“What are you doing here?”“Yeah, I know it’s been awhile,” said Lacey uncomfortably.
“Thought I’d check in on her.
How has she been?”Mrs Potts pushed the cart closer, and Lacey saw that breakfast was on it: a bowl of porridge, buttered toast and tea, and a plate of cut fruit."No real change," she said.
"She can eat, but she can't speak.
She seems as well as she can be, other than that.
Smiles a lot, anyway.""Good."Lacey chewed her lip, looking at Marie's closed eyes.
Perhaps it was true.
Perhaps she was happy in her little world.
Mrs Potts cleared her throat.“When did you get here?” she asked.
“I didn’t hear the door.”“No, I came up last night,” said Lacey.
“Didn’t want to disturb anyone.”“Hmm.”
Mrs Potts gave a knowing sniff, looking her over.
“Well, you look as though you’ve been dragged through a hedge backwards.
Too thin, besides.
I bet you haven't been eating properly.""Don't fuss," sighed Lacey."It's my job to fuss," said Mrs Potts.
"We'll soon have you fed and rested, no need to worry.
I expect you’ll want a bath and a change of clothes.”“That’d be great.”“And some breakfast?”“You’re an angel,” said Lacey.
“I always said so.”“Flatterer,” she said, with a smile.
“Let me see what I can do.”“No one can know I’m here,” said Lacey hastily.
“Who’s still around? I mean from the old crowd.”Mrs Potts pursed her lips.“Well, Cogsworth is still here,” she said.
“He always did say they’d have to carry him out in his coffin.
And there’s Ashley, who comes in to clean, but it’s a big job for one girl.
I closed up most of the rooms. Other than that there’s Anton, who does the gardens, but he won’t be here until the snows go.”“Okay.”
Good.
The fewer people to see me, the better. “Of course the nurses come in once a day,” she added.
“Dr Whale attends once a week to see how things are. Oh, and Felix comes up from the town every three or four days.
To keep an eye on things, he says, but I have to say I wouldn’t trust him as far as I can throw him.”“Oh.”
Lacey shifted nervously.
“And - and them?”Mrs Potts pursed her lips.“Not for a month or so,” she said.
“I doubt they’ll be back before the spring.
She doesn’t like the cold.”“Of course not,” said Lacey.
“Hell’s always warm, right?”Mrs Potts’ mouth worked, as though she was trying not to laugh, and Lacey nodded.
Maybe I can stay then. Maybe for a little while. “Right,” said Mrs Potts briskly, patting her broad thighs.
“Well. Let me see about some food for you.”“I’ll give Grandma her breakfast,” said Lacey.
“It’s good to see you, Mrs Potts.”The old woman smiled, her eyes twinkling.“It’s good to see you, Miss.”Feeding Marie took a long time, but Lacey finally finished, and her grandmother appeared to fall asleep again, so she turned her attention to the breakfast she had been given.
Warm fresh bread and butter, porridge with stewed pears and maple syrup, and a pot of tea. She was oddly homesick for the coffee she used to make in Weaver’s apartment, and resolved to ask Mrs Potts to get some, but the food was delicious, and she ate every scrap.Once that was done, she followed Mrs Potts to one of the three bedrooms that Ashley kept clean.
It wasn’t the room she had stayed in when she had briefly lived in the house, but she didn’t mind that. The room was decorated in a pale, soothing green, with cream sheets and an embroidered, down-filled comforter on the bed. There was an en-suite with a shower and bath tiled in cream and jade, and Lacey lost no time in turning on the shower and washing away four days of dust and grime.As she pulled out a set of clean clothes - sweater dress and skinny jeans over her chunky boots, she began to plan, her mind running over the advantages of staying where she was for now, along with potential threats. The lack of staff was a good thing; fewer eyes to see her meant fewer mouths to flap about her being there. She certainly trusted Mrs Potts and Cogsworth not to mention her presence in Storybrooke, but as for the rest of them…
She had no idea who Felix was, and decided she had no desire to find out.Cogsworth was a rotund man in his sixties with thinning hair and round little glasses that gave him an air of fussiness.
He was overjoyed to see her, promising to keep an eye out for any visitors. He repeated Mrs Potts’ claims of there being few enough of those, and the long driveway leading to the house would give Lacey plenty of time to hide herself away until they had gone.
She felt herself relax a little, and ate her dinner that night down in the kitchens with both of them.“Where have you been all this time?” asked Mrs Potts, passing her a plate of chicken casserole, and Lacey sighed.“Look, the less I tell you, the less you have to lie if someone asks,” she said.“Oh, I’m used to lying by now, dear,” she said cheerfully.“Yeah, and you’re good at it, but Cogsworth sucks,” said Lacey, causing a noise of protest from him.
“It doesn’t matter, anyway. I was in one place for too long. Won’t happen again.”“Does that mean you’ll be moving on soon?” asked Cogsworth, looking crestfallen, and she nodded.“They’ll return in the spring, right?” she said.
“I need to be gone by then.”“At least take some money,” he said.
“I go over the accounts, you know, and I’m well aware you haven’t touched yours in years.”“Yeah, because an account is a link,” she said patiently.
“I don’t want to give them any way to trace me, okay? I’m not making this easy for them.
Besides, I can take care of myself.”Cogsworth sighed resignedly, pushing vegetables around on his plate.“Where will you go?” he asked, and Lacey shrugged.“I don’t know.
Wherever the bus stops, I guess."“It sounds a lonely life, Miss,” he said.
“And a dangerous one.”“Not always,” she said quietly.
“Sometimes you meet good people. There are a few of them out there.
A few good men left in this world.”“Your grandmother wouldn’t want to see you like this,” he chided.
“Drifting through life, no roots, no future…”“Yeah, well, I guess my grandmother didn’t want a lot of things that happened to me,” she said abruptly.
“No use crying over it.”She dug into the casserole, spearing a piece of meat and shoving it into her mouth.
He was right, but she had realised long ago that what someone wanted and what life offered them were two very different things.It was strange being back, and not as comforting as she had expected.
Lacey enjoyed seeing the familiar faces of people that she knew, eating Mrs Potts’ excellent cooking and reading to her grandmother from the library, but the house no longer felt like home.
Perhaps it never really had, and she had simply never noticed. Or perhaps it was the fact that she had had no place of her own with which to compare it, so it had remained the only home she knew. At least until recently.She missed the apartment in Seattle, with its snug lounge and her bedroom that overlooked the street and the deli on the corner with its scents of fresh ground coffee and bagels.
She missed serving drinks at Roni’s, and the playful banter she had with the customers. And she missed Weaver. She missed waking him with coffee and getting a sleepy groan in response.
She missed arguing about what to put in the grocery cart or curling on the couch with a glass of something and bitching about their respective days. She missed him most of all.She had thought about calling a hundred times or more, and dismissed each thought almost immediately. Why bother, after all?
It wasn’t as though she would be going back, and he would ask her questions to which she had no answers.
At least none she could give him.
Better to remember it as a brief moment of calm in the never-ending chaos of her life and move on.It was March before she accepted that that wouldn’t be possible.She had been feeling under the weather since Christmas, bone-tired and weak, but when she started throwing up each morning, a dreadful suspicion began to take form in her brain.
Her period had come again, but it was much lighter than usual, and although she tried to tell herself it was stress, the ominous suspicion persisted.
She decided to wait until testing her theory, in the vain hope that she was wrong, but the weeks passed and the sickness continued, and eventually she bit the bullet and took the bus to the next town.She was nervous about going into Storybrooke, even simply to wait at the bus stop, so she picked a day of dreadful weather, when the snow was falling hard out of a iron-grey sky and the wind blew it in sheets across the road.
The buses still ran, though.
It took more than a little snow to stop the residents of Maine getting around.The next town over was bigger, filled with strangers who took no notice of the girl in her too-big sweater and hooded coat, and Lacey felt herself relax a little as she slipped into the clinic she had called the day before. The test result wasn’t exactly unexpected, but it didn’t stop her swearing like a trooper as she stomped around the consultation room. After her initial outburst, to which the young nurse listened calmly, she slumped into a chair and began to cry.“I realise this is a lot to take in,” said the nurse.
She had told Lacey that her name was Dorothy, and she had a kind but efficient air that made her feel at ease.“Oh, it’s not like it’s a total shock,” said Lacey, wiping her eyes with the tissue she was handed.
“Just - just confirmation, I guess. I kind of knew, and I couldn’t face it. I’ve been putting this off for bloody weeks!
I’m a fucking coward!”“There’s no cowardice in being afraid your life will change,” said Dorothy.
“You’re here now, that’s what matters. Do you want to discuss your options?”“Options.”
Lacey’s mouth flattened.
“Wouldn’t those be nice?”“Well, you do have them,” she said.
“Remember it’s your body, and your decision.
I’m certainly not going to make it for you, and nor should anyone else.”Lacey was silent, thinking about Weaver.
He was no doubt going about his usual business, working way too much and self-medicating with whisky, with no clue that three thousand miles to the east, his ex-roommate was pregnant with their child.
How would he react, if she told him?
Would he care?
She thought he would; he had already done more for her than anyone else she had met in the years she had fended for herself.
What would he want to do about this?
She didn’t know, but she thought perhaps he deserved to hear the news from her personally.
It was almost spring, anyway.
It was time for her to leave Maine.It seemed to take an age to walk back to the house from the bus stop, the woods cold and ominous, the snow slipping beneath her boots.
She was glad she no longer had the ridiculous heels she had taken to wearing at Roni’s. There was little call for sexy outfits when one was on the road, and it seemed that that was what she was destined for once more.
She eyed the big house warily, alert for any strange vehicles outside, but the driveway was clear, and so she hurried around to the kitchens, where Mrs Potts was pouring hot water into a teapot. She looked around with a smile as Lacey entered.“Just in time!” she announced, and her face fell.
“Why, whatever’s the matter?”She put the lid on the teapot and hurried over, and Lacey burst into tears again.
It took five minutes of gulping and sobbing and broken sentences to explain the reason for her distress, but Mrs Potts was as kind and comforting as ever.
Lacey wept on her shoulder as Mrs Potts stroked her hair and whispered soothing words, and when she was done she felt better, as though some of the weight around her heart had been lifted. She let out a shuddering sigh, and Mrs Potts patted her back.“There now, dear,” said Mrs Potts kindly.
“You sit down and have some tea.
Things never seem quite so bad after a nice cup of tea, I always say.
And a piece of cake, hmm?”“Guess I need the extra calories,” said Lacey despondently.She took a seat at the table, slumping in the chair as Mrs Potts poured tea and set slices of ginger cake on a plate.
Lacey felt a little better after eating a piece, and reached for her tea.“So,” said Mrs Potts, looking at her over the top of her glasses.
“What are you going to do?”“Go back to—”
Lacey snapped her mouth shut before she could reveal her destination.
“Go back.
He deserves to know.”“The father?”
She put her head to the side.
“Did it end badly?”“It was never a thing,” she sighed.
“We were friends, that’s all.
It happened once.
He was sad and - and I wanted to help.
I never thought it would - well, I guess I was stupid.
Reckless.”“And now?” asked Mrs Potts.
“What do you think he’ll do?”“I don’t know,” she admitted, pushing dark brown crumbs of cake around on her plate with a finger.
“I don’t even know what I want to do.
But he’s a good man.
The best I’ve ever known.
Maybe he’ll help.
At any rate, he has a right to know.”“Yes.”
She reached out, squeezing Lacey’s hand with her own.
“I think you’re right.
I think you should go to him.”There was silence for a moment, and Mrs Potts sat back, taking a sip of her tea.“When will you go?” she asked quietly, and Lacey glanced up.“I’ll go tomorrow,” she said.
“It’s time, anyway. You said they’d return in the spring.”“Yes.”
Mrs Potts looked grim.
“And rest assured, they’ll hear nothing of this from me.”“Thanks,” said Lacey.
“Look - I don’t know when I’ll be able to come back.
I hate leaving Grandma all this time, but—”“Dr Whale says she’s comfortable, and she doesn’t realise what’s going on ninety percent of the time,” she said soothingly.
“Don’t worry about her, Miss.
Or us, for that matter.
You think about keeping safe, and about the decision you have to make, that’s all.”Lacey gave her a tremulous smile.“Do me a favour and don’t say anything to Cogsworth,” she said.
“I know he means well, but secret agent he ain’t.”She smiled at that, eyes twinkling.“Just promise me one thing,” she said.
“Let me know what you decide, and let me know you’re alright.”Lacey nodded, reaching for a second piece of cake.“I promise.”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Weaver wanted to stay pressed against Lacey forever, but he was getting cold, lying naked on the floor of their apartment, and he needed to get back to Nolan’s place.
His plan to have a long conversation with Lacey had been effectively derailed, and while he cursed his own weakness for thinking with his cock, the chance to have her in his arms again was too wonderful to feel too bad about it.
He kissed her again, pushing up off her and hunting for his clothes. Lacey dressed in silence, and the heavy, awkward atmosphere descended again. Weaver wanted to sigh, but he zipped his jeans, buckling his belt and tugging on his shirt.“So,” he said, fastening shirt buttons as he watched her dress.
“What now?”She flicked her eyes across to him, chewing her lip, and his mouth flattened.“Lacey,” he said.
“I fucking meant it.
I’m not signing any papers until I know why I’m signing them, okay?”“I know,” she said softly.“So we need to talk,” he said.
“I want to make this work, but if that’s not possible - well, if it’s not, then I don’t want it to be because we didn’t try, okay?
Please.”Lacey tugged her dress straight, folding her arms around herself, and nodded.“Okay,” she said.
“Okay, I’ll - I’ll try.
I mean neither one of us went into this with high expectations, right?”Well, that fucking hurt.“I never expected it to be the romance of the fucking century, if that’s what you mean,” he said coldly.
“I’m well aware I have little to offer on that front. But we were at least good friends. Can’t we just start with that?”She sighed, finally meeting his eyes.“Yeah,” she said softly.
“Look - can you just - can you give me some time?
Just a few days, that’s all. I need to think. I know this is hurting you, and - and I don’t want to hurt you.
I never wanted that.”“What did you think would happen?” he asked.His voice was gentle rather than accusatory, and she shrugged awkwardly, one shoulder rising and falling.“I guess - I guess maybe I thought you wouldn’t care too much.
Like maybe it would be a relief.”“Lacey…”He stepped forward, cupping her face with his hands and feeling the softness of her skin against his palms. She wouldn’t meet his eyes, and he bent to kiss her, lips pulling at hers as she rose up on her toes. Her hands rested at his waist, and when he pulled back she dropped back on her heels, still not looking at him.
He felt his heart sink, but his thumbs stroked her cheeks, wanting to stay close to her, to touch her.“I don’t want this,” he said quietly.
“I want us to be a family, but I don’t want you to be unhappy, and I’m not gonna force you into anything, okay?
So if you need time, you have it.”Her lower lip trembled a little, and she caught it with her teeth, nodding.
Her eyes were closed, her body stiff. He had no idea what she was thinking. Perhaps he never had.
Reading people was in his job description, and yet his own wife was a closed book. It was bloody depressing.“I should get back to Nolan’s place,” he said.
“Could we - could we maybe talk when I bring Tilly home?”Lacey nodded briefly, finally opening her eyes.
There was a troubled expression on her face, and he was desperately afraid that she would change her mind, but she nodded again, resolutely.
He kissed her forehead, a press of lips against her skin, trying to send all the love he could into her. Hoping she believed it. Lacey chewed at her lip as he drew back, and he wanted to sigh.“Right,” he said softly.
“I should go. I’ll see you on Sunday.”“Yeah.”She showed him out, her shoulders a little hunched, as though she was beaten down by whatever burden she was carrying.
He wanted to take it from her, to bear it away and bury it deep, where it would never hurt her. If only she would let him.Weaver stomped up the path to Nolan’s front door, hands shoved in his pockets and what he knew must be a grim look on his face.
He felt a little better for losing his temper and saying what he damn well felt for a change, but whether it would have the result he wanted was another matter.
He still had no idea what had caused Lacey to push him away in the first place, and part of him was worried that giving her a couple of days before talking about it would only give her time to conjure up some elaborate lie.Nolan answered the door to him, Wilby shoving a wet nose into his hand as he entered, and he followed Nolan back to the kitchen, hearing the sound of Tilly and Neal playing in the lounge.“You want a beer?” asked Nolan, opening the fridge door, and Weaver sighed as he dropped onto one of the kitchen chairs.“Why not?” he said despondently, and nodded his thanks as Nolan tossed a can to him.“How’d things go with Lacey?”Weaver popped the top of his beer, drinking about half of it in one go and setting the can on the table with a dull clunk.“They didn’t,” he said tersely.
“Or at least, I didn’t get to the bottom of what the problem is.”“But?”“But I tore up the divorce papers and told her I wouldn’t sign them until I knew what the hell’s going on.”Nolan took a drink of his own beer, setting the can down on the table and watching Weaver with a knowing look on his face.“And?”Weaver grimaced, running a hand through his hair.“And I told her I bloody loved her, and we had sex again.”“You know, for two people who broke up, you guys sure have a lot of sex,” remarked Nolan, and Weaver shot him a look.“Yeah, and every time we do, I end up finding out nothing about what’s up with her,” he growled.
“She does it on purpose, I swear.”“You really think that’s true?”He said back in his chair, letting his head roll back with a sigh.“I don’t know, maybe,” he said resignedly.
“Maybe I should exercise some bloody self-control. I’ve just - I’ve missed her, you know?
I spent bloody decades on my own, but - but I never felt lonely until we weren’t together anymore.
How ridiculous is that?”“That’s how things are when you find the person you’re meant to be with,” said Nolan, reaching for his beer. “I’m sure you guys can sort this out.”“Maybe,” he said tiredly.
“She’s agreed to talk, at least.
I’ll see her when I take Tilly back there on Sunday.”“And you have no idea what caused all this?”Weaver shook his head.“Not a clue,” he said, his voice heavy.
“Maybe she’ll tell me.
Maybe not. Maybe what she’ll tell me will be a pack of lies, and I won’t even see it.”He ran a hand over his mouth, sighing to himself as he shook his head.“I can’t read her, Nolan,” he said quietly.
“I have no idea what the hell is going on with her.”Nolan took a swig of his beer, putting the can down on the table.“Okay,” he said.
“Let’s look at this from another angle.
Let’s say it wasn’t Lacey, but a regular case.
How would you solve it?”Weaver shrugged, pulling a face.“Usually with a case I start with the crime and work backwards to find the suspect,” he said.
“Here I don’t have that. I have a suspect but no idea what it is they’ve done. And honestly I don’t like thinking of Lacey in those terms.”“Look, I’m just giving you a push to think your way out of this,” said Nolan impatiently.
“I’m not suggesting you tap her damn phone. Just think about what’s out of place right now, and go from there.”Weaver nodded slowly.“Alright,” he said.
“I’ll think about it.”He slept little that weekend, lying in bed with his arms behind his head and running over everything that had passed between he and Lacey since he had first noticed something was up.
It didn’t give him much to work on, and he hoped that she would be a little more forthcoming with him when he went over on Sunday.Having Tilly to stay was a balm for his tortured soul, and he ensured that they spent as much time together as possible, whether going to the park, reading from one of the books she had brought, or making cookies in the kitchen.
He used a packet cookie mix, and a series of plastic cutters in the shape of animals that he bought at the dollar store, but they seemed to turn out alright.Tilly wanted to take some to Lacey, and so on Sunday evening he found himself waiting on her doorstep with a plastic box in one hand containing a selection of cookies in the shape of elephants, cats and rabbits, messy with white frosting.
Lacey eyed him soberly when she answered the door, but turned on a beaming smile for their daughter, kissing her cheeks and exclaiming over the cookies. It made him smile. He left Tilly telling her about their trip to the park while he went to the kitchen, and heard Lacey chattering as she led her through to the bedroom to get ready for bed.Weaver leaned on the counter, eyeing the clock as the minute hand inched slowly around.
Lacey seemed to be gone for a long time, but he didn’t move, staring sightless at the tiled wall by the kettle.
She had said they would talk, and he intended to hold her to that. There was a bottle of wine next to the microwave, but he didn’t want to open it, as much as he would have liked to have a glass.
It wasn’t his apartment anymore.By the time she came back he felt as though his body had frozen, and he turned his head to face her. She had let down her hair, dark curls bouncing around her shoulders, her little black top stretched tight across her breasts.
She looked a little thinner, her cheeks more hollow than usual, and he wondered if she was eating properly.“She’s ready for you to say goodnight,” she said.He nodded, pushing away from the counter and going through to kiss Tilly goodnight, and when he returned to the kitchen she had opened the wine and poured them both a glass.
He took it with a nod of thanks, taking a swig. He’d have to make it the one, as he was driving, but then he supposed he could always get a cab, if it came to it. If things went badly wrong, he could just go to Roni’s bar and drink himself under the table.Lacey was chewing her lower lip, the way she did when she was thinking about something, and he took another swallow of wine, relishing the slight burn of alcohol in his throat.
After a moment she seemed to reach a decision, and turned towards him, taking a drink and setting her glass on the kitchen counter as she swallowed.“You were right,” she said abruptly.
“I haven’t really explained things, or told you what’s going through my mind.
I’m not being fair to you, and - and it’s hurting you.”He was about to say something, but sensed that she wasn’t finished, so pressed his lips together, waiting.
Lacey took a deep breath, raising her chin, and looked at him, her eyes fixing on a point near his left ear.“You were right that we should try,” she said.
“To make it work, I mean.”The fingers of ice that had grown around his heart stirred a little, beginning to thaw, and he felt the first, faint stirring of hope.“I’d like to,” he said gently.
“I want to make it work, Lacey.”“I know you do.”Her voice was barely more than a whisper, a flat monotone, as if the fact that he persevered was somehow irritating, but she met his eyes briefly before glancing away again, one toe scuffing at the rug, as though she were ashamed.“I just - I don’t know how to explain what I’ve been feeling,” she went on.
“I don’t know if I even understand it.
How can I explain it to you if I don’t get it?”Weaver took a sip of his drink, setting down the glass.“Well,” he said.
“I think maybe we just need to keep talking.
Just - just say whatever comes into your head, and it’ll all come out.
It might be in a big tangled pile that we need to make sense of, but that’s okay.
At least once it’s out there we can look through it, you know?”Her mouth twisted, as though she was about to cry, and she shook her head.“You’re too good to me,” she whispered.
“Too good. It hurts.”She rubbed at her chest, and he took a step towards her, inching slowly forwards.
Lacey shook her head, holding up a hand, and he settled back on one foot, giving her space again.“I’m sorry, I - I’m not good at this,” she said awkwardly.
“Feelings. Family. Close
– relationships. Any of it. I’m not used to talking through stuff or letting shit out or - or letting people in.
No one ever really cared enough to try before, or was prepared to listen to me anyway.”He wanted to speak, to tell her that he cared, that he would listen, but she was still talking, so he remained silent.“So - so I know this hasn’t exactly been a healthy coping mechanism, just shutting you out, but it’s kind of the best I can do,” she went on.
“Before we were together, I – well, if things got too much I always ran away rather than face them, because I’m a fucking coward.”“You’re the least cowardly person I know.”Lacey pulled a face.“No, I am,” she insisted.
“And I’ve been selfish, trying to force you to do things my way, to take the easy way out.
I suck at facing shit, at - at dealing.
And - and that’s not your fault, or Tilly’s.
It’s only ever been mine.”He was silent, watching her.
She was bouncing on her toes a little, the way she did when she was uncomfortable and wanted to be anywhere but there.
God, he didn’t want her to take off again. He didn’t think she would, but he was well aware that if it hadn’t been for Tilly, he would never have seen her again after the first time they had sex.
The thought was unbelievably painful.“I - I can’t promise anything,” she went on.
“But I’ll try, okay? I just need some time to myself, so - so I can’t have you moving back in just now.”Weaver blinked.“Alright,” he said.
“I never expected that, anyway.
I know this isn’t gonna be resolved with a cup of tea and a frenzied fuck.”“Yeah,” she whispered.
“Pretty sure we already did that last part.”There was silence for a moment, and he tried to think of something to say that would give at least one of them some comfort.“Well, we can keep the same arrangement with Tilly for now,” he said.
“I’ll take her Wednesday night until Friday this week, okay? And - and you and I can maybe start to talk through things.
Maybe we could get Roni to watch her one evening, so we can do that. We could have dinner, or—”He cut off as her mouth twisted, as though the idea was repulsive to her, but to his surprise she nodded.“Yeah, maybe,” she said quietly.
“We’ll see how things go, I guess.
I could - I could bring you lunch or something.
Like I used to.”The faintest of smiles curled his lips, and he nodded.“I’d like that.”More silence.
He had never before appreciated how loud the kitchen clock was.“Lacey,” he said quietly.
“What do you feel for me?”She hesitated, not looking at him.“You know how I feel,” she muttered.“If I’d been asked that six months ago, I would have said yes.”
He put his hands on his hips, squaring his jaw. “Since then you asked me to move out and told me you wanted to get divorced, so you’ll forgive me if I’m having a crisis of confidence.”Lacey sighed at the tone of his voice, her mouth flattening, and her eyes flicked across to meet his.
His mouth was set in a grim line, his brows drawn down a little over dark eyes, and she felt that familiar lurch in her belly at the sight of him.
He always looked good to her, but even more so when he was angry and trying not to show it, when his emotions were raw and hard. She closed her eyes for a moment at the brief memory of his mouth on hers, his body pressing down on her, inside her.
It made her want to step into his arms and take him into the bedroom they had once shared and forget about everything that had happened those past few months. She opened her eyes again, and he was watching her, the low-level anger dissipating into something worse, a heavy cloak of sadness and regret wrapping around him.“I - I care about you,” she said softly.
“I care about you a lot, okay? And I don’t want to hurt you.
I’m just - I’m afraid that’s all I do, is hurt you. All I’ve ever done.”“That’s not true, sweetheart, God knows…”
He ran a hand through his hair. “You - you make me laugh, and you challenge me, and - and you light up my life just by being part of it, I swear.”Guilt gnawed at her, making her eyes sting with tears, and Weaver sighed.“Look, maybe we got together under less than ideal circumstances, but that doesn’t change how I feel now,” he said.
“We may not have felt we were love at first sight, but I love you now, okay? I love you so, so much!”His eyes were pleading, his smile a little desperate, and it felt as though she was being stabbed, a hard, sharp pain in her chest, digging and twisting.“And - and it’s - alright, if you don’t feel the same way,” he said gently.
“I mean why would you, anyway? I’m a mess.”He chuckled hollowly, and her mouth twisted, two tears tracking down her cheeks.“You’re not,” she whispered.
“You’re the best man I know. The best I’ve ever known.”“I get the impression that the competition isn’t exactly fierce,” he said, and put his hands on her shoulders as she bit back a sob.He drew her to him, a soft press of his fingers on her shoulders, and she let her hands rest at his waist, shuffling forwards until they were touching.
Weaver pressed his lips to her forehead, which made her want to cry again, so she laid her head against his chest with a shuddering sigh as his arms wrapped around her.“Lacey,” he said quietly.
“I’m not gonna lie to you, this whole thing has hurt like fuck.”She nodded miserably.
She knew that, of course.“I’m well aware that we have some things to work through, even if I’m not completely sure what those are,” he went on.
“Getting through it is probably gonna hurt like fuck too, but - but it hurts me more to be apart from you and Tilly, okay?”She nodded, and he tightened his grip around her.
It felt nice, to be in his arms again. To be held by him, as though she was worth something.“And you?” he asked, his voice a low buzz rumbling through his chest.
“Does it hurt you, the thought of us being together?”Lacey rubbed her nose against him, breathing in his familiar scent.“I’m not sure what hurts right now,” she said, her voice dull.
“I’m not sure I can feel anything.”He kissed the top of her head, lips pressing against her hair.“Then tell me how I can help,” he said, and she pushed back a little, raising her head to meet his eyes.“Stay with me,” she said.
“Stay with me tonight.”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Four months earlier
Lacey flipped the pancakes, smiling as she felt Weaver’s hands steal around her waist.
She hadn’t managed to get dressed properly, but the summer mornings made her feel wonderfully lazy, and so she had thrown on his white shirt over her underwear to keep her semi-decent while she made Tilly’s breakfast.
He kissed the back of her neck, making her shiver, and her grin widened as his hands crept up to her breasts.“If you’re not careful, I’m gonna burn this,” she warned, gesturing with the spatula.
“I’m not exactly great at cooking these things at the best of times.”“You’re brilliant,” he murmured, kissing her again.“You’re only saying that because I blew you.”He chuckled deeply, sinking his teeth into her shoulder.“Your skills between the sheets are just a bonus,” he said.
“You’re brilliant in every way.”“Flatterer.”She served up the pancakes, putting them on a plate and topping with sliced banana, blueberries and maple syrup.
Weaver had moved back from her a little, and she turned in his arms with the plate held out on one hand, her lips pursed in amusement.“You gonna let me go, or will you make your daughter starve?” she teased, and he grumbled and stepped back.“Use my weaknesses against me, why don’t you?”Lacey winked at him, walking to the lounge with a swaying of hips, a grin on her face.
Tilly was seated on the couch with Dragon tucked under one arm, watching TV with her thumb in her mouth.“Here you go, sweetie,” she said, handing the plate to Tilly.
“Don’t drip, okay?”“Okay.”Lacey ruffled her hair, heading back to the kitchen.
The sound of the early morning kids’ TV show Tilly was watching was overly loud, and Lacey pushed the kitchen door to with her foot, shutting out some of the noise as she carried cups of coffee to the table.
Weaver was already seated, raking his hair with a hand and looking sleepy, and he sent her a grateful look as she set black coffee in front of him.“Bloody need this,” he said fervently.“Well, if you will insist on keeping me up, having your wicked way,” she teased, sliding into the chair across from him.He grinned, winking at her as he reached for his coffee.“It’s my day off,” he said.
“And I didn’t hear you complaining.”“Hmm.”She wrinkled her nose at him playfully, and his grin widened.“Plans for today?” he asked, taking a sip of hot coffee and wincing.
“I thought we might take Tilly to the aquarium.”Lacey hesitated, wriggling in her seat a little.“I - uh - I was thinking about what you said the other night,” she said, a little shyly.
“About school.”Weaver put down his cup, a smile quirking his mouth and glinting in his eyes.“Oh yeah?” he said, clearly aiming for nonchalance and failing miserably.“Yeah.”
She wrapped her hands around her coffee, letting the warmth of the mug heat her palms.
“I thought - I thought I might go back.”His smile became a grin.“Well, I think that’s a great idea,” he said.“Just for my high school diploma,” she added, shooting him a look.
“I don’t want you thinking I’m gonna go off to college or get a bloody PhD or anything like that, okay?”The grin widened.“One step at a time.”“I mean it, Rafe!”“I don’t doubt it.”
He took another slurp of coffee.
“Have you looked into it yet?”“No,” she admitted.
“I thought I’d head down to the community college.
Maybe talk to someone about night classes, or something.
See what they have to offer. It - it might mean we have to get someone to watch Tilly.”“I can do that.”“You have work,” she pointed out, and he shrugged.“Well, I’ve worked my fucking arse off for decades,” he said.
“They owe me a bit of flexibility, I’m thinking.”Lacey felt a surge of love for him, and reached out to squeeze his forearm.“So - that’s my plan for today,” she said.“In that case,” he said.
“I’ll take Tilly to the aquarium, and you can meet me there when you’re done.
Maybe lunch at Granny’s afterwards?”“Sounds perfect,” she said, and felt her heart grow a little as he grinned at her.
It was. Life was perfect.Lacey left the air-conditioned cool of the community college entrance, a sheaf of papers tucked into the cardboard folder they had given her and wedged under one arm.
The sun was high in the summer sky, the heat of it making her glad of the sunscreen she had plastered onto her pale skin. She was wearing a floaty little summer dress in a buttery yellow colour, her hair tied up on her head and wedge-heeled sandals keeping her naked feet from the blistering sidewalk.
It was just past midday, and she was thirsty.
With any luck Weaver and Tilly would be done with the aquarium and ready for lunch, or at least a long, cold drink.
Perhaps they could go to the park afterwards and sit in the shade of the trees while Tilly played. She intended to enjoy the lazy summer days while she could; winter would be upon them soon enough.She rummaged in her bag, the college paperwork sliding awkwardly as she hunted for her phone.
The admissions staff had been more than helpful, and she had to admit that she was excited at the prospect of going back to school and getting her diploma.
The thought of achieving something worthwhile would have seemed like a pipe-dream a few years earlier, but she had been growing in confidence, encouraged by her husband and by the desire to set a good example to their daughter.
She was determined to make them both proud.“Well, well.
Haven’t you grown up?”An all-too-familiar voice made her brain freeze in terror and her heart turn to a heavy ball of ice in her chest, radiating cold and stealing her breath even as it thumped hard.
Lacey licked her lips nervously, turning slowly on the balls of her feet. The woman who faced her was perhaps twenty years older than she, but still beautiful, with long dark hair and a pale oval of a face, her lips curved upwards in a false smile as she removed dark glasses from her eyes.
Her black suit was tailored to fit her slender figure, the jacket open to reveal a cream silk shirt and a tasteful gold necklace that Lacey figured probably cost more than three months’ rent on their apartment. Her name was Fiona Schwartz, and she was the last person Lacey had ever wanted to see again. Well, second to last.“What, no words of greeting?” she asked, pouting a little.
“No tear-soaked reunion? Where’s your sense of familial obligation?”“Flushed it down into the sewers with my memories of you, where they belonged,” said Lacey abruptly.
“What do you want?”“Can’t a mother enquire after her daughter?”“You’re not my mother.”Fiona waved a languid hand.“Stepmother, then,” she said lazily.“You missed out the evil part.”She sighed, looking amused.“Please don’t tell me you fell for the fairy tale stereotypes,” she said.
“I don’t recall ever dressing you in rags.”“I was thinking of you being more the witch who eats kids, but okay.”“You always were prone to exaggeration.”“We all have our faults, I guess.”Fiona sighed dramatically.“Well, I must say it’s taken me awhile to track you down,” she said, glancing around.
“When you go into hiding you really do find the dirtiest rock to crawl under, don’t you?”“Guess it’s a side-effect of not wanting to see you ever again.”“I was impressed,” she went on, as though Lacey hadn’t spoken.
“Didn’t think you had much of a talent for fading into the background with that mouth of yours, but you’ve certainly led us a merry dance all these years. Didn’t even touch the money we put aside for you.”“You mean the money my grandmother put aside for me.”“Well.”
She smiled without warmth.
“It’ll be ours soon enough.
No one’s been able to find sweet little Isabelle Schwartz, after all.
The general thinking is that she’s dead. Such a tragedy.”Lacey raised an arm and let it fall, glancing around herself.“Weird,” she said flatly.
“And yet here I am. Having the crap bored out of me.”“Yes.”
Fiona pursed her lips, looking her up and down.
“But you’re not her, are you?
No no, your name is Lacey, now.
Lacey Weaver, I do believe.”A finger of ice slipped down Lacey’s back, melting as it went to form a cold pool at the base of her spine.
Oh God, please tell me they don’t know about him.
Please.

She tried to keep her face impassive, but Fiona’s smile grew.“Can’t imagine what made you choose that name,” she added.
“You sound like a common prostitute.”“Takes one to know one, I guess.”Fiona’s nostrils flared, her eyes flashing, but she kept that wide, insincere smile.“I see your manners haven’t improved.”“Look, can we just cut to the chase?” snapped Lacey.
“What the hell do you want?”“Such hostility,” purred Fiona.
“And here I am with the answer to all your dreams.”“You know nothing about my dreams,” said Lacey abruptly.
“If you did you’d leave me alone.”Fiona peered at the folder of documents under her arm, tugging at them before Lacey could wrench away.“Well well,” she said.
“Finally trying to claw your way out of the gutter you like to wallow in?
How cute!
You always were desperately unambitious, but this is almost adorable...”Lacey flushed with shame.“I think we’re done here,” she said bluntly, and made to walk past.
Fiona grasped her arm.“I didn’t travel all the way up here just to trade insults,” she said.
“Why don’t you sit down with me? Fifteen minutes, that’s all I ask.”“Not interested.”“Oh, I think you will be,” she said.
“I think you’ll be very interested.”“I left that life for a reason,” said Lacey curtly.
“And I don’t intend to go back.”“I can be very persuasive,” said Fiona, her eyes glinting.
“You remember that, I’m sure. Do you really want to put me to the test?”The ice at the base of her spine seemed to spread upwards, and Lacey swallowed hard.
Fiona’s smile grew.“Just one teensy little favour,” she crooned.
“And you can go back to your pointless little life with your dear detective.”Lacey shifted uncomfortably, her heart thumping in trepidation.
How much do they know?
Everything, knowing them.
God, they could kill him. They could kill him and they wouldn’t lose a wink of sleep over it. “Actually, we’re getting divorced,” she said, her voice flat and emotionless, and Fiona’s eyebrows lifted.“Really?” she said, her tone sceptical.
“Well, I must confess I did wonder at the state of your marriage, given what I’d been told.
I mean there’s the age difference, for a start—”“Oh, what the hell do you care how old he is...”“—not to mention the fact that he probably drinks too much and never gets home on time.”“He’s a good man!” snapped Lacey, unwilling to badmouth Weaver even in the midst of a lie meant to keep him safe.
“He did the right thing, stepped up when he had to. It’s not his fault if it didn’t work out.”“And here I was thinking that you’d settled into the dull routine of matrimony,” she said sweetly.
“Oh, but of course!
You had a daughter, didn’t you?
Matilda Rose?
Such a pretty name...”Lacey wanted to grind her teeth, her fists clenching.“Touch my child and I’ll fucking end you!”Fiona drew back, tutting sadly.“Language, young lady!” she chided.
“What sort of company have you been keeping?
I’m sure we raised you better than that.” “‘Raised me’.”

The words dripped with disgust as they fell from Lacey’s lips.
“You didn’t fucking raise me, you groomed me!
Tried to make me think you were saving my ass, when all you saw was a fucking meal ticket. Getting out of Vegas was the best thing I ever did.”Fiona’s eyes flashed, her mouth twisting into a wintry smile, always a sign of danger.“The thing about running away, dear, is that it’s a coward’s way out,” she said, the false, soft sweetness gone from her voice and replaced with sharp tones, the words cutting shards of obsidian.
“But then you always were a pathetic worm hiding in the body of a loudmouth, weren’t you? Shouting and clawing at the world around you because you’re too afraid to look inward and see that you deserved everything that happened to you.”The words made Lacey cringe, made her want to curl into a ball and wrap her arms around her head and shut out the world as she wept.
She had told herself long ago that she would never do that again, and so she squared her jaw and raised her chin. It made her squirm; every atom in her body was telling her to run, to hide, but she stood her ground, her heart thumping.“I’m not nine anymore,” she said coldly.
“Life’s a bitch, and so are you, so how about we ditch the reminiscing and you tell me what the hell you want?”“Like I said.”
Fiona’s smile was as cold as her eyes.
“Fifteen minutes.”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Present Day
Weaver woke slowly, the scent of fresh coffee drifting into his nose and pulling him out of a pleasant dream. He rolled onto his back, ears registering the sound of the bedroom door opening, and ran a hand over his face, groggy with sleep.“Daddy!”Weaver grunted as Tilly landed on his chest with a thump and a giggle.
He opened his eyes a crack, and she was perched on his belly, grinning at him in red pyjamas with a cartoon fire-breathing dragon on the chest. Weaver pushed up onto his elbows, the covers falling from his shoulders as he put an arm around her and kissed the top of her head, hugging her close.“Mornin’ darling,” he murmured, and Tilly settled against his chest, raising a hand to pat his right nipple.“You got no clothes on!” she said accusingly, and he rubbed an eye, yawning.“Yeah, I know, sweetheart.
I forgot to bring my jammies, okay?”“Mummy got jammies!” she said brightly, as if that was the obvious solution.“She does,” agreed Weaver.
“And very pretty they look on her, but I doubt they’d fit me.”“Oh, I don’t know.”
Lacey’s voice from the doorway made him look up.
“I think you’d look good in the red flannel pair. Maybe a little tight on the butt, but that’s not a bad thing.”She was smiling slightly, but it didn’t reach her eyes, which were dark and troubled.
Her arms were folded, as though she was protecting herself, her shoulders a little hunched.
Weaver shifted, arm tightening around Tilly as he sat up.“You okay?” he asked cautiously.“Sure, why wouldn’t I be?”
She looked away, towards the kitchen.
“You want coffee?”“Thank you.”Tilly had stuck her thumb in her mouth, and he kissed her forehead.
Lacey was watching them, chewing her lip with an expression he couldn’t interpret, but she nodded and turned away without a word.Weaver sighed, settling back in the pillows as Tilly snuggled against him. It had been a long night, and Lacey had been fierce and desperate and passionate. By the feel of it, his back had several rows of scratches, and he was tired and aching all over. He had poured every ounce of feeling into the sex, and she had cried and clung to him and said she was sorry, though for what he wasn’t sure, and he hadn’t pressed her for an explanation. It was the most unguarded they had been with one another in months, even though it almost felt like she was saying goodbye, but in the cold light of day it seemed that they were back to square one. So be it. Nolan was right. He was a bloody detective, after all, and Lacey had been a mystery for far too long.He ran a hand over his face, the scent of her arousal still heady on his fingers. A glance at the clock on the nightstand showed that it was gone seven-thirty, and he really needed to be in work within the hour. With any luck, it would be a quiet morning, and he could get some time alone to think. There had to be a thread tying everything together. Even if he couldn’t yet see which points that thread joined up.Lacey came back through, a steaming mug in one hand and a plate in the other.
He could smell toast, and pushed himself upright once more. Tilly grumbled at being made to move.“You go eat your breakfast in the lounge, okay?” said Lacey, and she pulled her thumb from her mouth, pouting slightly.“I wanna eat it here.”“No toast in bed, baby, you know the rules.”“Go on.”
Weaver kissed the top of her head.
“Daddy doesn’t want crumbs in his butt.”Tilly giggled, but slipped from the bed and toddled over to Lacey, taking the plate from her in careful hands and trotting off to the lounge.
Lacey set the mug of coffee down on the nightstand and stepped back, teeth tugging at her lower lip again. Weaver nodded at the coffee.“You not having one?”“Yeah,” she said, after a pause.
“I - I wondered if you wanted breakfast.”“Coffee’ll do,” he said.
“Go on, get your own.”She opened her mouth, as though she was about to say something, but seemed to think better of it, and went back to the kitchen.
He could hear the sound of the TV from the lounge, and Lacey pushed the door to with her foot as she came back in. He expected her to sit on the edge of the bed, away from him, so was surprised when she climbed on beside him and sat back against the pillows with a sigh.“How did you sleep?” he asked tentatively, and she shrugged.“Well, you were awake with me for most of it, so…”He grinned at that.“Okay, point taken.”
He took a sip of the coffee, wincing as it burned his tongue.
“Shit!”“Yeah, you might want to leave it ten minutes,” she said.
“You sure about breakfast? I could do some eggs.”He shook his head.“I’ll have to get going soon,” he said, and glanced at her.
“How - uh - how do you want to work things this week? I know I said I’d take Tilly Wednesday through Friday, but I can be flexible. You know, barring any major developments on the Vice front.”“No need to change anything,” she said.
“I’ll have her today and tomorrow, bring her over to the precinct on Wednesday, you can bring her back Friday evening.”“And the weekend?”Lacey hesitated.“Maybe - maybe we can talk about that,” she said.
“Later in the week.”Her tentative suggestion made hope flare in his chest, and he shifted, sitting up a little more.“Alright,” he said.
“Maybe we could do something.
Drive out of the city, get a change of scene.
I bet Tilly would like the woods.”“Not really the weather for walking.”“It’s just a thought.”“Yeah.”
She let her head drop.
“Well, like I said. We’ll talk about it later.”He nodded, not wanting to push for more than she was willing to give.
At least she seemed open to the idea of spending a couple of days together, which was more than she had done in months.“Right.”
He took another sip of coffee.
Still too hot, but he kept at it.
“I guess I’d better get dressed.”“Okay.”He set down his cup, slipping from the bed to gather his clothes.
He could feel her eyes on him as he dressed, tugging jeans over his hips and buckling his belt.
He sat down to pull on his boots, deft fingers tugging the laces and tying in double knots. He really needed a clean shirt, but he had time to get home and pick one up. If he left now.Getting to his feet, he picked up the coffee as he turned to face her.
Lacey had drawn up her knees and wrapped one arm around them, her head a little bent.
She looked small and sad, and he wanted to climb back onto the bed and take her in his arms and tell her everything was going to be okay.
He doubted she’d welcome it. Or believe him. He gulped at the coffee, the liquid just cool enough to drink without blistering his mouth.“Right,” he said.
“I’ll see you Wednesday, then.”“Okay.”He wanted to kiss her, but he didn’t, simply nodding to her and taking his mug through to the kitchen to rinse it out.
He said goodbye to Tilly, receiving a firm hug and a peanut butter-laden kiss on the cheek. She grumbled about his stubble, which made him grin, and he kissed her hair.“You look after Mummy, okay?” he said.
“Make sure Dragon burns up any bad people, got it?”“Okay,” she said stoutly, and he grinned and kissed her again.“Bye, sweetheart.”The day was bright when he left the apartment, a biting wind whistling along the streets and the sky a harsh, vibrant blue.
He walked quickly, hands shoved in the pockets of his jacket until he reached the car. It was still early, the sun only just rising, gleaming red-gold in the windows as it climbed.
Back to his lonely apartment, a change of shirt, and he could make it to work before Dunbroch had made the coffee.Forty minutes later, he was sitting at his desk, pencil tapping against his notebook as he stared unseeing at the screen in front of him.
He had taken Nolan’s words to heart, and was starting to consider the current situation with Lacey as though it were one of his cases.

The Mystery of the Miserable Wife, he thought wryly, and his mouth flattened.
Perhaps he was being ridiculous. Perhaps she really had grown bored of him, and their life together.
Perhaps he was looking for external causes for their break-up, when all he really had to do was look in the fucking mirror.“No,” he muttered, throwing the pencil down in frustration.
“There’s more to it, I fucking know it.”“Talking to yourself, Weaver?”
Merida’s voice made him look around.
“First sign of madness, you know.”“I thought I’d blown way past the fucking first,” he sighed, and she chuckled.“You and me both,” she said.
“Here.”Weaver sat back in his chair, nodding his thanks as she handed him a coffee, and frowned as he started thinking about how he might approach his current problem.
Perhaps if he worked through things logically, methodically. Used what patience he had to construct an accurate timeline, and let his gut do the rest of the work until he had some hard evidence.
It had always worked before.“You look like you’re thinking really hard,” observed Merida.
“Want me to call an ambulance?”He shot her a flat look, and she shoved him fondly to show she was joking.“Do you remember that murder case from a few years back?” he said.
“Isaac Heller. He was a lawyer. Got shot in the head and dumped in the harbour.”Merida frowned, nose creasing as she pursed her lips.“Wasn’t that the one Lacey witnessed?” she said.
“Yeah, I remember you and Nolan looking into it. Didn’t we turn up to arrest the guys that did it, and Nolan got shot?”“That’s the one.”“We never caught the scum that shot him, did we?”“Not alive, no,” he said grimly.
“Their bodies turned up along the coast a few weeks later, though.
Not an easy I.D.”“That’s about the extent of my memories of that case, sorry.”“Fine, I’ll check the records instead.”“What’s made you bring this up?” she asked.
“You thinking of going back to Homicide?”“No, just - just trying to tie up some loose ends,” he said.
“We thought the killers might have been hired thugs for some casino down in Vegas, I think.
Never had the evidence to question anyone, but we passed the info to the Vegas P.D anyway. Don’t know if anything came of it.”“Let me pull the file,” she said.
“Pretty sure there’s something in the evidence room, maybe it’ll spark that brain of yours into life.”“Wish something would,” he grumbled, and she chuckled and went out.He went through his messages while she was gone, rattling off replies to some and filing or deleting others, taking sips of coffee as he did so.
The sound of footsteps registered as he was tapping out a response to a query on a relatively new case, and Merida dropped a brown envelope on the desk, making him jump.“This was in the evidence room,” she said.
“Not much in it, by the feel of it, but maybe it’ll trigger something.”Weaver opened it up, pulling out a folded piece of paper, memories crowding back in as he opened it up to reveal a green sticky note and one line written in a looping scrawl.
The price is paid.

He wondered if it had been meant for Heller, or for someone else.
Perhaps the person who had ordered the two thugs to track Heller down.
Perhaps someone else entirely.The sticky note was still firmly in place on the letter, one corner curling up, a series of letters and numbers written on it in pen that had dug into the paper.
He didn’t think they had ever managed to work out what the code was for; certainly it had matched nothing in Heller’s possession or on his computer, and their enquiries at the cycle dispatch company that Lacey had been working at had yielded nothing.
Peering into the envelope, he spied the glint of silver at the bottom. A tiny key, the sort that opened secure lockers, or safe deposit boxes. They had never found out what that was for, either.After a moment, he took photographs of the code written on the sticky note, of the tiny key, and of the letter.
Perhaps there was something he had missed, and the visual reminder would help him figure it out.
He checked the file for the Heller case, but could find no evidence of anything happening since they had sent their own findings to the Vegas P.D.
The case had been cold for some time, and he suspected that there would be no justice for the late Mr Heller.He glanced at the spare whiteboard to the side of his desk, but elected not to use it.
The Heller case was not technically his anymore, and in any event he wanted to widen his investigation.
There was also a nagging thought at the back of his mind that was telling him to work this one out on his own.
He opened up a new document on his computer instead, and started writing down everything that he could remember from the first moment he had met Lacey, including dates and times, as near as he could pin them down in his brain.
He started from the night they had met, moving on to the investigations he had been doing at the time, the people he had questioned, the places Lacey had worked. It meant checking back in his old case files and his diary, as well as trying to unearth old memories, but the timeline soon began to take shape.Weaver finished writing about the night that Nolan had been shot, and that Lacey had left, and sat back, frowning as he read over what he had so far.
It was going to take awhile to get down everything that had happened in the past four years, but if he could get to the bottom of Lacey’s current behaviour, it would be worth it.
There had to be something in there, some clue that would point to where things had started to go wrong, and he was growing more convinced that it was an external force rather than the two of them simply imploding.
The thought was strangely comforting, even as anger began to fester in him. He squashed it down, dousing the flames with cool reason as much as he could. She was scared, she was in danger, and she needed his help.
That was enough for now.Detective Fa turned up just as he was reading through what he had so far, giving him her usual abrupt greeting and taking a cup of coffee from Merida with a beaming smile.
Weaver rolled his eyes. The two of them still hadn’t done anything about the fact that they were hopelessly in love with each other, and he was beginning to think they never would.“You all set for tomorrow morning?” asked Fa, dark ponytail swishing as she turned back to face him.
“I think we’re as prepared as we can be.”“Yeah, yeah,” he said vaguely.
“I’ll meet you here. Five o’clock?”“Make it four-thirty,” she said.
“I want to catch those bastards sleeping.”“Sounds good.”“What are you working on?”“What?
Oh, nothing.”He minimised the window, swinging around on his chair and waving his coffee mug at Merida until she filled it up.
She swore at him as she did so, which made him grin.“With any luck we can wrap this thing up tomorrow and it’ll be another meth lab out of commission,” said Fa, rolling her shoulders tiredly.
“Which only leaves like a dozen others.”“And the rest,” he grumbled, and they shared a weary smile.
“Sometimes it feels like everything we do is pointless. You take one down, another three pop up.
It’s like fucking Whack-a-Mole.”“Then we need a bigger mallet,” she said.
“Drake’s gonna go to the chief, ask for more resource.”“Good luck to her,” he said, with feeling.
“I doubt she’ll get it.”“Me too, but at least she’s trying.”
She took a drink of coffee, her eyes following Merida as she left the room with a bunch of paperwork in hand.
“You want to go for a drink afterwards?”“Depends what time we get finished, I guess,” he said.
“I’m having Tilly on Wednesday, so I don’t want a late night, but I’ll put in for the bar tab if you lot are in the mood to celebrate.”“That’s fair.”Weaver sat back in his chair, pursing his lips as he looked her over.“Here’s a wild idea from out of the blue,” he said.
“Why don’t you and Officer Dunbroch spend some quality time together in Roni’s bar?
Take some of my hard-earned money, get shit-faced, go back to your place and shag each other silly.”Fa’s mouth dropped open. “Weaver, oh my God!” “I’m serious!” he protested.
“The two of you have been driving the entire precinct up the bloody wall for years now!”“I don’t believe this…”She shook her head, blushing furiously.“Look, just because my private life’s gone to shit doesn’t mean love’s doomed, okay?” he said impatiently. “Just - just bloody well kiss her, damn the pair of you!”Fa glared at him, grinding her teeth, and buried her nose in her coffee cup as Merida stomped back in.“Drake wants to see you both about the raid tomorrow,” she announced.
“Best get your arses to her office.”Weaver pushed back his chair, getting to his feet and smirking at Fa, who was still blushing.“Oh look,” she said sarcastically.
“Work. What we turn up at this place for, instead of interfering in other people’s lives.
How about that?”“We interfere in other people’s lives all the time,” he said dismissively.
“At least you know my intentions are good where you’re concerned.”“You can take your intentions and shove ‘em.”“What are you two on about?” asked Merida curiously.“Nothing!” said Fa, glaring at Weaver as though daring him to contradict her.
“Just work. That’s it.”“Work takes priority until we’re done with this raid tomorrow,” he said snidely.
“After that, I’ll be expecting you to forget about the job and take a little time for yourself, got it?”“Does that mean you will?” she asked, in a wry tone, and he shot her a look.“Move your arse, go on,” he grumbled, and she gave him a satisfied smirk, slinking out of the office ahead of him.Lacey’s day had started well, wrapped in her husband’s arms, warm and safe and happy.
Until, of course, she had fully woken, and remembered that they were supposed to be separated, they were living apart, and she had been given a task to perform.
It would have to be soon; the way things were going she didn’t trust herself not to break down and tell him everything, and there was too much at stake to risk that.She thought it over as she washed up the breakfast things after he had left, teeth tugging nervously at her lip.
Tilly was still watching TV, the noise from the lounge a cheerful cacophony of music and squeaky voices from the cartoon characters she was so engrossed with.
Lacey scrubbed at the cup in her hand, taking out her frustration on the coffee stains. The buzz of her phone made her jump, and she wiped her hands on a towel, reaching for it.
Her heart sank as she saw a message, the incoming number identified as Work.
Two words, no more.
Seven thirty.Scowling at the phone, Lacey quickly texted back okay and dropped it on the counter.
It would mean asking Roni if she could watch Tilly for an hour or so while she went over there, but she suspected that wouldn’t be a problem.
Tilly would like seeing Henry, anyway. Nodding to herself, her mind made up, she set the clean cup on the drainer, and picked up the next. There could be no more delays.At twenty-eight minutes past seven that evening, Lacey squared her shoulders, flexed her fingers, and stalked into the bar of The Rabbit Hole as though she was marching into battle.
Her heart was thumping in her chest, her breathing uneven, but she told herself that if the person she was going to meet wanted her dead, she already would be.
Not to say that they would care if she died once she had served her purpose, of course, but she had long abandoned any hope of a happy ending for herself in all this.
The past four years had been a pleasant dream, one from which she had always been destined to wake. She told herself it didn’t matter.Despite what she had said to Weaver, Lacey hadn’t worked since Tilly was born, and hadn’t done a shift at The Rabbit Hole since the night she had first moved into his apartment four years earlier.
The place hadn’t changed for the better in that time, and if anything the customer base was even worse, but she ignored the stares and leers she received from the men huddled over round tables sticky with spilled beer.
She ignored Garrett too, and for his part he said nothing to her when she entered, merely sneering and jerking his head towards the back. Lacey raised her chin as she passed him, resisting the urge to smirk at the bruises that hadn’t quite faded from the beating Weaver had given him.
The bastard deserved it.The bar had a room upstairs that was reached by a narrow staircase, and was frequently used by unsavoury types to discuss their affairs, with Garrett keeping an eye out for police, Feds, or rivals for his customers’ business interests.
The stairs creaked as Lacey climbed, heart hammering in her throat, fingers shaking a little as they grasped at the banister, rough with flaking paint. She reached the top, and almost screamed as a figure loomed out of the darkness. Swallowing her terror, she scowled as she recognised Arthur, with his oily smile and perfectly-groomed beard.“Right on time,” he drawled.
“It’s so heartening to know you can keep your promises.”“Go fuck yourself,” she muttered, and pushed past him as he laughed softly.He fell into step behind her as she walked to the door on the right, standing almost close enough to brush against her.
It made her shudder, but she clenched her jaw, balling her hands into fists as she glanced over her shoulder.“So, is there some sort of secret knock, or are you guys done with the dramatics?” she asked, in a dry tone, and Arthur reached over her shoulder and rapped on the door.It opened almost immediately, creaking slowly as it did so, and Lacey took a breath as the room beyond came into view.
A single bulb hung from the ceiling, casting a yellowish light over the room. The tall man who had opened the door peered at her from deep-set eyes beneath a heavy brow, his face expressionless.
He stepped back, moving against the wall and giving her a view of what awaited her. A table faced the door, surrounded by four chairs, and a woman was seated opposite her, elbows resting on the table, hands clasped together. She was slender, brown hair neatly brushed up and pinned on top of her head, a demure blue dress covering her to the neck, long sleeves reaching to her thin wrists. Pretty, with small features and a tiny, knowing smile that never left her face, she gestured to the chair in front of her.“Isabelle,” she said pleasantly.
“Do have a seat.”Lacey raised her chin, folding her arms and taking a firm stance.“It’s Lacey,” she said curtly.“Yes, I heard you’d changed your name,” said the woman.
“I suppose that was to be expected. You can imagine the fun we had, trying to work out what you might have called yourself.
My first guess was Elizabeth.”“Like I give a crap,” said Lacey flatly.
“I’m not here to talk over old times or pretend I care that you’ve been looking for me, Azurine.
Just tell me what you want.”“Hmm.”
The woman looked a little perturbed, but shrugged.
“Fiona said you’d become insufferably rude. You always were an ungrateful creature.”Lacey bit the insides of her cheeks to keep her vitriol internal, and swallowed hard as she stared the woman down.
Eventually Azurine rolled her eyes with a sigh.“I hadn’t intended to come all the way up here from our home, as you might imagine,” she said.
“However, it so happened that I had business in Seattle, and I thought I might kill two birds with one stone.
As it were.”Her eyes held Lacey’s for a moment, the threat unspoken but plain, hanging in the air between them.
Lacey licked her lips.“I’ve had some difficulty in getting what you asked for,” she said, shifting position a little.
“It’s not exactly easy.”“What, with your estranged husband getting in the way?”
Azurine pursed her lips, looking thoughtful. “You know, if he’s proving too much of a burden, we can always fix that.”“No!”
Lacey realised she had shouted, and shook her head, trying to remain calm even as her heart thundered in her chest.
“You promised not to hurt him.”Azurine looked satisfied at her outburst, and nodded slowly.“Such a caring nature,” she purred.
“We always felt that you could be so much more than you led us to believe.”Memories of her old life clamoured from the depths of the dark chest she had shoved at the back of her mind, and Lacey shuddered, blocking out the noise.“Look, just leave him out of this,” she said.
“I can get what you need, just as I promised. Give me a week, and I’ll have it.”“We’ve already given you months.”“Yeah, and it’s taken time to make him trust me enough to let me near,” she said impatiently, waving a hand. “We’re getting divorced, or have you forgotten? It doesn’t exactly lend itself to intimate little chats.”Azurine regarded her with narrowed eyes, and Lacey hoped that her ability to lie and deflect had improved significantly over the years.“When will you have it?” she asked then.
Lacey tried not to sigh with relief.“I can complete phase one by the end of the week, I think,” she said.
“I have to be subtle about this, okay? Then it’s onto phase two.”“For which I presume you’ll need our assistance.”“I already told you what I needed.”“Indeed you did.”Azurine glanced to her left and nodded curtly.
The tall man reached into the inside pocket of his black coat and withdrew a padded envelope, which Azurine took from him with a smile.
She placed it on the table, pushing it across with slender, manicured fingers, and Lacey stared at it. The envelope was unmarked and light brown, its edges a little crumpled.“You’ll find everything you need in there.”Lacey hesitated, then took a step forwards, reaching for the envelope, fingers closing on it with the crackle of paper.
She slipped it inside her jacket.“We’ll expect an update by the end of the week,” said Azurine.
“You can send it via Arthur.”“Fine,” muttered Lacey.
“Is that it?”“Save one final reminder.”
She looked up, tapping fingertips together.
“Any further delays will have consequences. Our patience isn’t infinite, Isabelle.”Her voice was cold, her eyes like flint above that tiny smile, and Lacey tightened her jaw.“I’ll do it,” she said stiffly.
“I’ll keep my promise. Just be sure to keep yours.”Azurine smiled.“Then their fates are in your hands, are they not?” she asked.
“Make sure you do nothing that might endanger them.”“Fine.”
Lacey scowled at her, and raised her arms, letting them fall to her side, hands slapping against her thighs as she glanced around.
“So, is that everything, or do you want to villain-monologue me to death?”"That's everything."
Azurine raised her head.
"We'll be expecting your call."Lacey nodded, stepping back and turning on her heel as Arthur opened the door to let her out.
She ignored him, sweeping past, her head held high.
Inside she was shaking, but she wasn't about to show it.
She made her way down the creaking stairs, breezing through the bar without a word to Garrett, and strode out into the street without a backward glance.Weaver reflected that sometimes, the universe at least appeared to be on his side.
The early-morning raid had been an unqualified success; there had been twelve arrests, a large haul of drugs and around two hundred thousand dollars in cash had been seized, and the officers and detectives involved were congratulated on a job well done.
They celebrated by leaving early and heading to Roni’s, who was delighted to get an unexpected boost in trade. Weaver was true to his word and put a wad of cash behind the bar, but he wasn’t interested in drinking any of his own money, merely buying a coffee and sitting at the bar as his colleagues chatted and laughed.
Roni refilled his cup, eyeing him curiously.“Not in the mood to celebrate?” she asked.
“From what I can overhear things went well.”“Oh, today was a good day as far as the job goes,” he admitted.
“But on a personal level I’m still up Shit Creek, no paddle, and no idea where the current’s fucking taking me.”Roni fixed him with a flat stare, hands on hips.“Haven’t you two made up yet?” she asked.
“This is the most ridiculous break-up ever.
It’s obvious neither of you wants it, so what gives?”Weaver sighed, slouching over the bar a little more.“I don’t know,” he said.
“But I’m gonna find out. One way or another.”“Just tell her you love her and you want to make it work.”“You think I haven’t tried that?” he demanded.
“There’s something else going on.”“Like what?”“I don’t know.”
He tapped his fingers on the bar.
“Has she been in here looking for work?”Roni looked surprised.“Lacey?
No, why?”“Never mind.”
So, she wasn’t so desperate for money that she asked Roni for a job.
Thought as much.
“Has she been in here at all?”“Only to bring Tilly over to play with Henry,” she said.
“She came over yesterday, actually.”Weaver’s eyes narrowed.“Yesterday?
When?”“I don’t know - seven?”“What time did she get back?”“Maybe eight, eight-thirty?”Weaver nodded.
So, not work, then.
Running an errand? Why wouldn’t she take Tilly, in that case? ”Did she say where she was going?”Roni shook her head.“She just said she had to go somewhere, and she wouldn’t be long.”“Have you seen her with anyone else?”“You think she’s cheating on you?”“No.”
He shook his head, sitting back.
“Besides, we’re not together. Not sure it would count.”“I don’t think she’d do that, anyway,” she said.
“Pretty clear to me she still loves you.”“Is it?”
He grimaced, and took a slurp of coffee.
“I don’t know what’s clear anymore. Anyway, I wasn’t asking about potential new lovers, for what it’s worth.
Have you seen anyone else around her? Anyone at all?”She shook her head.“Sorry.”“Okay.”
He took another drink.
“I’m sure there’s something I’m missing.
I keep trying to pull these threads together and it’s like grasping at bloody water.”“Maybe you need a new perspective,” she suggested.
“Take a step back, look at the big picture.”Weaver sat up a little.“You could be right,” he said.
“I’ve been running through everything on a bloody single document on the computer.
I need something like the whiteboard I use. Something I can create a picture with.”“So take a whiteboard back to your place,” she said, and he shook his head.“I don’t want her to think that I’m - I’m investigating her like she’s a criminal,” he said.“Are you saying you’re not?” she said, and he pulled a face, puffing out his cheeks and slumping onto his elbows again.“I just want answers, Roni,” he said wearily.
“I want answers and she’s too frightened or too bloody stubborn to give me them.
If we’re really over then I’ll accept it, but I’m not gonna walk away if the problem isn’t with us, you know?”“Okay,” she said.
“So what’s your plan?”“I’m gonna take a whiteboard from work,” he said.
“But I won’t be taking it to my place.”Weaver pulled up onto the driveway of David Nolan’s house, a bottle of wine on the seat beside him, along with a packet of cupcakes with chocolate frosting and a bunch of flowers.
He figured that if he was going to be using part of the Nolan’s garage, he may as well come bearing gifts.
Nolan had opened the garage door and was watching him from his wheelchair on the porch as Weaver backed the car in a little way and then got out.“Set up wherever you think best,” called Nolan.
“You want a beer?”“Thanks.”Weaver heard the front door close, and went around to the back of the car, opening up the trunk and lifting out the whiteboard on its stand.
He set it up at the side, where the light fell on it and where he had enough room to walk around and collect his thoughts.
There was a folder of documents in the trunk, and he opened it up, a picture of Lacey lying on the top.
It was a photocopy of the photo he kept on his desk, taken on the beach at Port Angeles, not long after they were married.
She was smiling, her eyes shining, strands of hair brushing her cheeks in what he recalled had been a stiff breeze.
She looked happy.
He wished it were true.He stuck the picture in the middle of the board with a magnetic tab, and brushed Lacey’s cheek with the tip of his forefinger, holding that frozen smile in his mind for a moment.
Then he picked up one of the board markers, and started writing.By the time Nolan had brought him a beer, the whiteboard was starting to take shape, with Lacey at the centre and the places and people connected to her, however tenuously, scattered around the outside.
He nodded his thanks as he took the beer, swigging from the bottle as Nolan looked the board over.“Not much so far,” he observed.
“What about her family?”“Well, that’s just it.”
Weaver settled back on his heels.
“She never talked about them. No one was invited to the wedding, she didn’t contact anyone when Tilly was born…
The few conversations we had touching on her old life - well, she never wanted to talk about it. From the little she let slip I figured her family was abusive, so I didn’t really push.”“Where were they from?”“Melbourne originally, moved over to Nevada when she was a kid.”“Well, maybe that’s something to work on.”“Yeah, maybe.”
He took another drink, looking around.
“Look, thanks for letting me do this. I don’t feel all that great, investigating my own wife, but I definitely don’t want Tilly seeing me do it.”“Hey,” said Nolan gently.
“You’re trying to keep her safe.
Keep both of them safe.”“I know.”
Weaver took another drink.
“Maybe in the end she’ll thank me.”Nolan pushed his chair closer to the board, one wheel squeaking faintly.“Want me to put some oil on that?”“What?
Oh, no, it’s fine.
I’ll do it later.”
He gestured at the board.
“You put The Rabbit Hole on there.
Did you ever find out why Lacey went back there?”“No.”
Weaver frowned.
“And she didn’t ask Roni for work, so it wasn’t lack of cash like she told me, not that I believed that.”“Must have been something serious to make her want to go back to that dive and the creep that hit her that time.”“See, that’s something else.”
Weaver began pacing. “I thought the bastard had hit her again, so I went down there to beat the crap out of him, but he said it wasn’t him.
Whoever it was, he wouldn’t tell me. Looked scared.”“Someone higher up the food chain than him, then,” mused Nolan.“Yeah,” said Weaver grimly.
“Sharks eat the little fish, and the bottom-feeders hang around and wait for the waters to clear.”“So maybe you need to find a bottom-feeder,” suggested Nolan, and Weaver grinned.“My thoughts exactly.”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Four months earlier
Lacey scowled at Fiona Schwartz’s back as she was led down the street to a nearby diner.
Two tall men followed them, clad in dark suits and with identical flat, expressionless faces.
Lacey ignored them; she recognised hired muscle when she saw it, but they had no reason to cause her trouble unless she attacked Fiona.
And don’t think I’m not tempted, you arseholes.
The diner was cheerfully noisy, busy with the lunchtime rush, and they took a table by the window, the two goons standing outside with folded arms and lowered brows, dogs awaiting their mistress.“I think I might have an iced tea,” said Fiona, as she took a seat.
“The weather is delightful, don’t you think? If a little humid.”“I’m not here for tea and polite chit-chat,” said Lacey bluntly.
“State your business and piss off.”Fiona rolled her eyes with a sigh, but beckoned to the waitress and ordered two iced teas.
She sat back in her chair, hands folded in her lap, and smiled faintly as Lacey scowled.“To business, then,” she said, and raised an eyebrow.
“We need you to do something.”“Not interested.”“At least hear me out before you dismiss me completely.”“Why should I?”“Because we have so much to offer,” purred Fiona, leaning forward.
“You remember, I’m sure.”“I remember wanting to get as far away from you as I could.”“Lack of ambition always was your downfall.”“If being safe and secure shows a lack of ambition, I guess you’re right.”“Oh, is that what you are?” she asked.
“You tell me your marriage is failing, so you’re soon to be a single mother, in a two-bed that you rent and with no decent prospects.
Yes, very secure.”She glanced away with a twist of her lips, and Lacey scowled.
Did your homework, huh?
Bitch. “Still better than the life I had with you,” she said.
“And I’m not interested in anything you have to offer. As far as I’m concerned you can all go fuck yourselves and take your time doing it.”Fiona’s nostrils flared, a sign of anger, but she continued to smile sweetly.“Very well,” she said.
“You can’t say I didn’t try to be pleasant, but if that’s the way you want to play things, I’m more than happy to be the evil stepmother you like to portray me as.”Lacey could feel her heart thump faster, fear rising in her, but she raised her chin, as though she would snarl and bite at the threat facing her.“What do you want?” she snapped.
“I won’t ask again.”The waitress brought the iced teas, tall glasses frosted with condensation, slices of lemon wedged in among the ice cubes and clear plastic straws sticking upwards.
Fiona tapped her fingers on the table, red-painted nails drumming in a staccato rhythm.“You have something of ours,” she said.“Bullshit!” said Lacey fiercely.
“I left over ten years ago, and all I took was the money I’d saved and the clothes I could carry!
I don’t have anything of yours! I don’t want anything of yours!”“Oh, rein in your temper, girl, please!” snapped Fiona.
“I didn’t say you were aware of it, did I?”Silence had fallen in the diner, the customers on other tables looking at them curiously, and Lacey sat back with a scowl, folding her arms.
Fiona rolled her eyes as the patrons turned away and the background noise started up again.“Fine,” said Lacey bluntly.
“What do you think I have?”"Well, among other things, an opportunity," she said.
"An opportunity for you to prove your loyalty to your family.
To ensure its continued prosperity in the face of those who would seek to destroy it."Lacey burst out laughing, sitting back."Someone wants to take you down and you come to
me?" she said, with derision.
"Please!
I'd be cheering them on!"Fiona's mouth flattened, and she shook her head."I told Azurine it was pointless," she said, almost to herself.
"You always did respond more to the stick than the carrot.
Very well, consider it an opportunity to save whatever sad little life you've managed to scrape out for yourself."Lacey sat back up slowly, nervous again."At least you've dropped the phoney concern," she remarked.
"We're back to threats.
Good, at least I know where I stand.
Who is it that's got you running scared?"
Fiona took a sip of her tea, setting down the glass.“Your father wants you back,” she said abruptly.“I don’t know how many ways I can tell you to go fuck yourselves...""He's obsessed with succession planning at the moment," she went on, as though Lacey hadn't spoken.
"Must be his age making him worry so, and the fact that his only child turned her back on him like an ungrateful little brat."Lacey stared at her stonily."You remember how he gets," added Fiona.
"Apt to fits of - violence.
Your betrayal hurt him deeply.
I'm sure having you back, along with something he wants as a peace offering, would ease his mind a little.
Make him a little less - impulsive.""Peace offering?" asked Lacey suspiciously.
"Like what?"Fiona smiled."There's something we need you to get.""If it means you'll leave this town and never come back, I'm all ears," said Lacey.
"What do you want?"Fiona took another sip of tea, licking a droplet from her lower lip as she sat back.“It starts, as do so many things in life, alas, with a betrayal,” she said.
“The Blue Star had a client named Isaac Heller.
A little man of no consequence, but he did like to gamble.
Made his money defending low-level criminals.”“Surprised you knew him, if that’s the case,” said Lacey.
Heller. Shit. The guy I saw murdered was called Heller, wasn’t he? Was that him? Shit. Shitshitshit. “Well, he never would have come to my attention, had it not been for his troublesome wife,” said Fiona. “Another non-entity, but by all accounts a kind woman. Taught music to local children and ran special classes for some of the poorest in town in connection with a local church.
Such a charitable notion. And she was such a good listener.
Became the confidante of her pupils, some of which were children of her husband’s clients. I’m sure I don’t need to tell you how they might have earned their money.”“She was hearing things she shouldn’t,” said Lacey flatly.
“So you had to shut her up, right? I’ve heard this story a hundred times or more, what the hell does it have to do with me?
Do I know this woman?”“I very much doubt it, she’s been dead for years.”“And I’m guessing you killed her,” said Lacey.
“Or at least had someone else do it, not like you get your own hands dirty.”“I’m not responsible for what may or may not have happened to the poor woman.”“You keep telling yourself that,” said Lacey disgustedly.
“Is there a point to this?”Fiona rolled her eyes, and took a sip of her iced tea.“It appears Mrs Heller persuaded some of her students to provide her with evidence.”“Given that you’re here and not in jail where you belong, she can’t have gotten anything that incriminating.”“Well, what she was given encouraged her to do her own investigation,” said Fiona.
“Started sticking her nose in where it didn’t belong. Even managed to get one or two of the parents to talk to her.
Very persuasive, she must have been, given the penalties they faced for breaking their silence. A pity we never met, I’m sure she would have been an asset to any business.”“Spare me the fake regret,” said Lacey, her tone flat.
“She didn’t die of old age.”“Well, the circumstances of her tragic demise aren’t really relevant to the story,” said Fiona, looking at her fingernails.
“What is relevant is the information she obtained before that happened.
Information which is only ever of value to those who control it.”Lacey pursed her lips, tapping her fingers on the table.“You mean evidence that you were keeping to blackmail people,” she guessed, and Fiona shrugged slightly.“Partly,” she admitted.
“You know how much we value discretion, and what with so many of those involved running for re-election - well, I do so hate to lose a return on an investment.""If she died years ago I don't see what the problem is," said Lacey.

“Okay, maybe she could have reported what she had to the police, but why would that bother you?
It’s not like you don’t have the cops in your pocket.”Fiona smiled, taking another sip of tea.“Oh, not the police, dear,” she said.
“The children had already warned her off that.
No, she was in discussion with a journalist. One of these idealistic types.
Uncovering corruption, taking down big business, fighting for the little guy, et cetera...”“And?”“And one of her informants got scared and remembered his loyalties.”Lacey sat back, a twist to her mouth.“I still don’t see where I come in,” she said bluntly.
“She was gonna spill the beans on your criminal network, you offed her before she could.
So far, so normal. For you.”“Yes, well, unfortunately she died before she handed over the evidence.”
Fiona sipped at her tea. “Even more unfortunately, it then went missing.”“Ouch.”
Lacey couldn’t help smirking.
“Must have caused you some sleepless nights, huh?
Really putting a strain on that legitimate business face you try to keep going.
I thought you were looking haggard.”“The evidence is on a hard drive,” said Fiona, as if she hadn’t spoken.
“It was allegedly taken from her home by a person or persons unknown in what was rumoured to be a break-in, shortly after her death.
The police report doesn’t identify the perpetrators, but I suspect one of the informants who got scared for their own safety, or Heller himself. What is known is that the hard drive made its way to Maine, and into the hands of your grandmother.”Lacey’s mouth dropped open.“Grandma?” she said blankly.
“But - but that’s impossible!”“Is it?”
Fiona sipped at her tea, eyebrows quirking.“She’s been bed-bound for years!”“Well, yes and no,” said Fiona slowly.
“You’re aware that she’s been deteriorating, I’m sure, but it’s been a gradual process.
It so happens that this information was passed to her seven years ago, just after Mrs Heller met her tragic end.
You would have been - what? Nineteen?”“I guess.”Lacey frowned to herself, remembering that her grandmother had just started to be noticeably frail at that time, although she had tried to cover it as best she could.“Still very much in her right mind, of course,” said Fiona, eyes gleaming viciously.
“Most of the time, anyway. Lucid enough to know exactly what she had been sent, and how dangerous it could be in the wrong hands.”“Why the hell would she want to protect you?” asked Lacey bluntly.
“She couldn’t stand you. Any of you. After my mother died, she wanted nothing to do with you!”“No, she didn’t want anything to do with us,” agreed Fiona.
“She pretended otherwise, of course, but she couldn’t entirely hide it. I was glad when she lost the ability to speak, but those eyes of hers...”It was all Lacey could do not to launch herself across the table and strangle her.
She dug her thumbnails into the pads of her fingers, hard.“Anyway, she wasn’t protecting us, silly girl, she was protecting you.”“Me?”“Such a well-bred lady, wasn’t she?” purred Fiona, resting her chin on her hand.
“Fine, upstanding, the epitome of good manners. You can imagine how upset she was to receive recordings containing evidence of criminal acts.
Particularly those involving her young granddaughter.”Lacey felt a cold vein of ice pulse down her spine, her heart thumping.
The ice spread through her, freezing her blood, making her hold her breath, as though to do so would stop time, would let silence wash over them. Fiona kept talking, seemingly oblivious to her distress.“Of course, given the family history, not to mention the man her daughter Colette had married, she was adept at pretending unsavoury things weren’t happening.
Even when they were going on under her nose.”The diner seemed to close in around her, the background noise fading until she could hear nothing but her racing heart and Fiona’s words, spoken in a light, unhurried tone, as though it were nothing of importance.
As though she hadn’t broken open the deepest vaults of shame and trauma in her brain and strewn the rotted and broken contents all over.“Perhaps you don’t remember,” Fiona added sweetly, making Lacey start.
“The mind sometimes forgets things on purpose, I find.”“I haven’t forgotten anything,” said Lacey.
Her voice was hoarse, as though dust had dried her throat, choking her.“Good,” said Fiona lightly.
“So you see, we all have an interest in dealing with this sordid affair.
I understand your grandmother paid a substantial sum to secure the evidence and to ensure that any copies were destroyed, but I really feel we have to deal with what remains, don’t you agree?”Lacey licked her lips.“Why should I care?” she said boldly.
“Whatever was on that hard drive, I was a minor.
Good luck trying to make me look like the bad guy in all this.”“Well, that’s not really the point, is it?” she said sweetly.
“Willing participant or poor little victim, the effect is much the same.
What would your husband say?”Lacey raised her chin.“I guess he’d want to kill every one of you,” she said.“And here I thought you two were estranged.”Lacey shrugged, adopting a nonchalance she didn’t feel.“Yeah, well, taking down scumbags is like his favourite thing,” she drawled.
“The fact that there’s a family connection wouldn’t make him any less enthusiastic about it.”“Well, we’d like to avoid that.”
Fiona’s tone was light. “We need you to get the evidence for us.”“Get it yourself,” said Lacey, slumping back in the chair and folding her arms.
“How come you didn’t already tear the place apart? Grandma’s not exactly in a position to fight back, is she?”“And now we come to the part where we need you,” said Fiona pleasantly, folding her hands on the table. “You can’t imagine the trouble we went to to find out this little piece of information, given her current state of health.
It's taken years of piecing together rumours and whispers from those around her, but we got there in the end.
Rather than destroy the thing like a sensible woman, she apparently placed it in a safe deposit box in your name.”Lacey blinked.“Why?” she asked, and Fiona shrugged.“Perhaps she wanted to give you some control over that part of your life, who knows? Who cares? The point is, it’s in a place that only Isabelle Schwartz can access.”“I’m Lacey Weaver.”Fiona shrugged again.“For now,” she said lazily.
“I daresay that’ll change, hmm?”Lacey wanted to grind her teeth.“What I meant was, I have no I.D.”“I can provide you with I.D.,” said Fiona briskly, sitting back.“How did you find out about all this, anyway?” asked Lacey suspiciously.“The dear departed Mr Heller, of course,” said Fiona.
“Gambling debts are a powerful tool. Especially when paired with incriminating evidence of our own.
Everyone has secrets they’d rather the world didn’t know.”
Including you, and don’t think I don’t know that.
“So you pretty much had his balls in a bolt cutter,” said Lacey, and Fiona smirked.“Visual as ever, my dear.
You really do have a way with words.
Perhaps going back to school is the right path for you after all.”Lacey winced at her sneering drawl.
A tide of insecurity rose up through her, the familiar whispering at the back of her mind that had never truly left, telling her she was worthless, stupid, brainless.
She slammed the door in her head, muting the voices, but it was ill-fitting and warped, letting them leak through. She squared her jaw, looking Fiona in the eyes.“So you put the thumbscrews on Heller,” she said flatly.
“Did he know you offed his wife?”“I’ve no idea.
If he did he was far too intelligent to let on.”
She drank the last of her iced tea, licking her lips. “Honouring her memory by offering up the information she’d worked so hard to collect, in order to save his miserable soul.
Sad, really.”“Maybe he figured that since she was already dead, he should look out for himself,” said Lacey dryly.
“Not like you could hurt her anymore, right? Can’t say I blame the guy, I’m pretty confident you terrified him out of his wits.”Fiona smiled sweetly.“Such a soft heart,” she said.
“Don’t feel too bad for him, I’m fairly certain he was the one to blackmail your grandmother, though quite how he knew of her existence is another matter we haven’t been able to get to the bottom of.
One of the informants, I presume.”Lacey glowered at her.
Okay, maybe I’m not that sorry he’s dead. “Since he wanted to be so helpful,” went on Fiona, “we asked him to obtain the key to the safe deposit box from his contact in Maine, while we tried to trace your whereabouts.
He informed us that he was due to secure the key, but before he could do so, he was accidentally killed by my somewhat - overzealous - assistants.”“Can’t get the staff,” said Lacey bluntly.
“Contracting-out’s a bitch, huh?”Fiona ignored the barb."We searched his house after the unfortunate incident, but there was no trace of the key," she said.
"We assumed he'd been lying to us about his ability to obtain it, and given that you were nowhere to be found, that there was no harm in leaving the evidence where it was.""Who was his contact in Maine?" asked Lacey curiously, and Fiona waved a bored hand."He died before we could get that information from him.

A client, perhaps?
I've no idea what his background was, or how he ended up in Seattle, and it's a little hard for him to explain himself now, isn't it?"She smirked, and Lacey bit the insides of her cheeks to keep from snarling.
Fiona took another sip of tea.“Of course, then your husband got involved,” she said, looking thoughtful.
“I wish I’d known years ago that you were in this town and that he had the key; it could have been a quick hit and i wouldn’t have had all this bother.
Still, what’s done is done.”Lacey kept her face as expressionless as she could, trying to shove the image of a tiny silver key from her mind, the green sticky note with the code, the piece of paper with the single sentence on it. The price is paid. What price? Who sent that thing? “So you’re saying my husband has the key to this box?” she said flatly.
“Taken from the murder scene?""Indeed.""Then it’ll be in the evidence room.
You have cops on the payroll, you must be able to get it!""This isn't Vegas," said Fiona stiffly.
"And besides, discretion is paramount in this case.
We need someone with as much to lose as we have, so that we can be assured of absolute loyalty.
I'm sure you can understand that.""Doesn't matter," said Lacey, her tone blunt.
"There’s no way I can get that! We’re getting divorced, I can’t just turn up at the precinct and ask him to let me in the bloody evidence room!”“You’ll have to find a way, won’t you?” said Fiona coldly.
“It’s taken me years to track you down to your current hovel, and you know how I hate for my time to be wasted, dear.”Lacey laughed hollowly.“Whatever you’re planning on threatening me with, it couldn’t be any worse than what was already done.”“Well, that’s a failure of imagination on your part,” said Fiona, her voice cool.
She leaned on the table, eyes boring into Lacey’s. “You know full well that we're more than capable of destroying everyone you ever loved. Your grandmother already has one foot in the next world, that would be easy. Not to mention that interfering shrew of a housekeeper and that ridiculous butler.”Lacey swallowed hard, heart thudding in her chest.“And then there’s your husband, of course.”“Soon to be ex-husband!” she snapped.
“You may as well threaten a stranger! See if I care!”Fiona smiled slowly, leaning forward a little further.“Well, perhaps we won’t kill him,” she said softly.
“We’ll just destroy his life. Have him put away for a very long time for something highly unsavoury.
Police never fare well in prison.”“You’ve got nothing on him!”“You’ll find our influence reaches very far,” she said.
“I’m willing, able, and delighted to prove you wrong. And then, of course, poor little Matilda Rose will be in need of a new family, won’t she?
You remember how well we looked after you, I’m sure. We’d be happy to do the same for your daughter.”Lacey shook her head vehemently, cold horror rendering her mute, and Fiona sat back with a smile.“Of course, none of this will be necessary if you get us what we need,” she said lightly.
Lacey wanted to grind her teeth."What's to stop you coming after me again once you get what you want?" she demanded.
"Why the hell should I trust you?""Well, I suppose you shouldn't," said Fiona pleasantly.
"We were really hoping you'd see sense and come home.
Your father misses you, and you belong with your family."Lacey suppressed a shudder."I have a family," she said."For now," said Fiona, her tone deceptively light.
"Things can change."Lacey felt rage flare in her, and she glared at Fiona, jaw clenched."If you touch my child I'll kill every last one of you!" she hissed, and Fiona shrugged."Come home with the present for your father, and there'll be no need for any unpleasantness, will there?"Lacey shook her head."You're asking me to go back to the life I left
years
ago!
To - to leave my child!""I would never ask that!" protested Fiona, hand on heart.
"By all means bring her with you!
I'm sure your father would
love
to meet his granddaughter!
That really
would
ease some of his concerns about succession, don't you think?
Although I doubt he'd approve of your choice of husband...""If you think I'd put Tilly in danger, you're
insane!"Fiona simply smiled at her."Then make the right choice," she said.
"For their sake.
Find the key to the safe deposit box, take out the hard drive, and return it to us. Then we can go back to running our business and your daughter will be safe from us.
We’ll even spare the valiant detective, since he means so little to you. I’m so sorry your marriage didn’t work out. No doubt some childhood trauma getting in the way of wedded bliss.”Lacey sat back, heart humping in her chest, senses heightened, the threats to her family, to the life she had grown to love, looming ominously around her, pressing against her skin and stealing her breath.“So that’s the deal you want to make?” she said flatly.
“I get you this evidence, and you leave them alone?”Fiona smiled, showing white teeth.“You have my word.”There was a moment of silence, in which the noise of the diner sounded unnaturally loud.
Lacey tried to think of a way out, to protect her family and those she cared about, but every direction she looked in led to nothing but heartbreak, death and trauma.
Just as her life had always been before she made the decision to leave. Before she had become Lacey Weaver. The thought of turning her back on that was agony.“It’s - it’s not gonna be easy,” she said.
“Like I said, we’re not getting along. It’s gonna take awhile before he trusts me enough to let me near.”“We’ve waited this long, we can wait a little longer.”Lacey nodded, and pushed back her chair, standing up.“Then I guess I’ll be in touch,” she said.
“How do I find you, anyway?”Fiona rummaged in her bag and dropped a twenty-dollar bill on the table before getting to her feet and putting her hands on Lacey’s shoulders.
Her smile widened.“Oh, we’ll be keeping an eye on you, don’t you worry.”Lacey tried to suppress a shiver, and Fiona pulled her into a hug, making her freeze in place.
Fiona’s nose brushed her ear, breath cool against her skin.“One more thing,” she whispered.
“If you tell anyone about this, or if you’re lying to me in any way, I’ll have poor, dear Detective Weaver shot in the street, do you understand me?”The ice around her heart froze solid, a hard lump in her chest. Lacey nodded wordlessly.Fiona kissed her cheek, a cold, wet circle against her skin, and Lacey stood stiffly as she swept out, the diner door closing behind her with a soft thump.Weaver checked his phone again, frowning.
Lacey had still not called, and they had been due to meet for lunch half an hour ago.
He had had to order something for Tilly to keep her occupied; they had spent an enjoyable morning at the aquarium, but she had been grumbling about being hungry even before they were done, so he had taken her to the restaurant by the side of the entrance, and texted Lacey to let her know.
He smiled at Tilly as she chewed on a chicken strip, ketchup on her mouth. A large plush octopus with wide eyes and a cheerful, anatomically-improbable grin sat with Dragon on the empty chair beside her.His phone buzzed, and he picked it up, swiping at the screen.“Hey,” he said.
“We’re in the restaurant at the aquarium, where are you?”“Hey,” said Lacey, sounding a little subdued.
“Did you eat?”“I got Tilly some chicken and fries, but I didn’t eat yet.”“Okay.”
A moment of silence.
“Listen, would you mind if I met you back home?
I just have a few things I have to do.”“Uh - sure.”
He frowned a little.
“What’s up?”“Nothing, just - the college was kind of overwhelming and I think my brain hurts.”He grinned at that.“Well, I guess I can understand that,” he said.
“Don’t worry, I can take Tilly to a movie or something.
Why don’t you get home, run a bath, and we’ll order pizza when I get back.”“God, that sounds great.”“In that case I’ll see you later.”
He hesitated, the words he had wanted to say for so long hanging on the edge of his tongue, wanting to fall off into the air.
He swallowed them down.
“We'll probably be back around five-thirty, six o'clock.
Okay?”“Yeah.”
More silence.
“Thanks.”The phone cut off, and he slipped it back into his pocket, shaking his head fondly.
She probably would have found it overwhelming, having not been in school since she was in her early teens.
He believed in her, though. She could do this.He turned to Tilly, who had finished most of her chicken strips and was drinking her milk.“Looks like it’s just you and me this afternoon,” he said.
“Shall we go and see a movie?”“Yeah!” she said, bouncing excitedly in her seat, and he grinned, reaching out to ruffle her curls.“Finish your milk, and let me wipe your face, then,” he said.
“We’ll get some popcorn, okay?”She let him wipe ketchup from her face and turned back to her glass of milk, and he found himself grinning like an idiot as she sucked milk through a straw, kicking her legs.
Her conception had been unplanned, waiting for her arrival had been months of internal panic that he had tried his best to hide, but he couldn’t imagine life without her, or without Lacey.
The only thing that could make his life more perfect would be another child, and he wondered if it was time to raise the subject. Lacey had never suggested that they try, but there again he had never told her he wanted to.
Perhaps it was time.They arrived back at the apartment at just after six, Tilly yawning as she sat in the crook of his arm.
Weaver struggled to open the door with her in one arm and two stuffed animals under the other, and Lacey eventually came to his rescue, taking Tilly from him and kissing her cheek.“Bath time for you, I think,” she said.Weaver let her take Tilly through to the bathroom, and set the plush animals on her bed before going through to the kitchen and pulling a beer from the fridge.
He spied a sheaf of documents on the counter: leaflets from the college and a glossy prospectus. Flicking through it took some time, and he smiled to himself, imagining Lacey getting her diploma, he and Tilly cheering her on.Once Tilly was in bed, he flopped on the couch next to Lacey, who was slumped against the cushions, hands clasped in her lap as she stared into space.“You want a glass of wine?” he asked.“In a minute.”There was a moment of silence.
It felt as though she had something to say, so he waited for her to speak.“How was the aquarium?” she asked then, and he grinned.“Good.
She seemed to enjoy herself.”“Sorry I bailed on you guys,” she said.
“I - I needed to think about some stuff. There was a lot to take in.”“Really, it’s fine,” he said.
“Tilly was too entranced by the octopus to care that there was only one of us.
I don’t think she’d have noticed if I’d stayed in the restaurant. Kept running off to ask the staff questions.”“She’s independent, I guess.”“Takes after her mother.”“God, I hope not,” she said, letting her head roll back with a sigh, and it sounded heartfelt.
He leaned over and kissed her forehead, and she stayed very still at the touch of his lips.“So, you guys had fun?” she said, not looking at him.
“You were okay without me?”“She was great,” he said.
“She was perfect. Cute as a button.
We’ve done a good job with her, you know, for a couple of first-timers.”She smiled briefly, and he licked his lips.
Perhaps now was the time.“She’ll be three soon,” he added.
“I thought - I thought maybe - you know, if you wanted - maybe we could have another.”“Another?” said Lacey, frowning, and he hesitated.“Another baby.”He wasn’t sure what reaction he had expected her to have, but staring at him as though he had just grown a second head wasn’t it.“Are you kidding me?”“Of course not,” he said.
“It’s gone pretty well, hasn’t it?
I mean - I mean we make a good team, right?
I thought it might be nice for Tilly to have a brother or sister.”She was still staring at him, and he hesitated, unsure whether to add what had been lurking in his mind for some time.“And - and honestly,” he said, “I’d like another child.
I’d love another child with you.”“And you think now is the right time?” she demanded.
“Are you out of your mind?”“I’m serious!” he protested.
“Why is that so surprising? I - I thought you might like the idea, too.”“So, all that talk about me going back to school was a load of crap, then?”“What?”
He shook his head.
“No! Of course we can wait until you’re ready, I didn’t mean—”“And what if I’m never ready?” she asked, and he held up his hands, trying for a soothing, patient manner.“I - I just thought we could talk about it, that’s all.”She shook her head, pushing up from the couch.“I can’t deal with this right now,” she muttered, stomping off.“Lacey, wait!”He almost jumped to his feet, following her into the kitchen, and she froze in place, shoulders stiff, an emotion he couldn’t identify radiating from her, coming off her in waves.
It was almost as though she was scared.“I’m sorry,” he said.
“I - I guess that was kind of out of the blue.
We don’t have to talk about it now.”“But you want to talk about it.”
Her voice was soft, but flat. Dead.
“You want - you want to make a family with me.”“I already have a family with you,” he said, confused by her reaction.
“We’re a family, Lacey.
I think we’ve been a family since you bloody moved in with me, since before we were even together.
I just - I just thought maybe it could grow. Just a little.”She was silent for a moment, and her shoulders rose and dropped, a heavy sigh escaping her.“You’re a good man,” she whispered, her voice barely loud enough for him to hear.“I’ll remind you of that the next time I forget to buy that wine you like,” he said, trying to make light of the very strange atmosphere that had descended.
Lacey’s head dipped a little, her shoulders hunching, but then she turned slowly on her toes to face him. Her eyes were a little too bright, her lower lip trembling.“You’re right,” she said, with a wan smile.
“We don’t have to talk about it now. Sorry if I freaked out.”“That’s okay,” he said.
“I guess it was a surprise.
I’ll give you some warning next time.”She nodded, arms slowly crossing to cover her belly protectively, her fingers plucking restlessly at the fabric of her dress.“Right,” he said.
“You still want pizza?”“Extra jalapenos.”“I’ll call it in.”“Then I guess I’ll open the wine.”She turned away from him, reaching for the cupboard where the glasses were kept, and he eyed her for a moment, a tingle of anxiety stealing through him.
Shaking his head, he went to order the pizza. Perhaps she was right. Perhaps she needed time.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Present Day
Weaver ran his eyes over the whiteboard again, pausing to take a slurp of beer.“How are things going with Lacey, anyway?” asked Nolan, and he growled something, running a hand over his chin in frustration.“I don’t bloody know,” he sighed.
“I suggested spending some time together this weekend.
She didn’t say no, but…” He shrugged. “I don’t know. Sometimes I think I’m kidding myself, trying to make it work, and sometimes it’s like I can see glimpses of the old Lacey.
Sometimes I think she still loves me.”“I don’t think she ever stopped,” said Nolan gently.
“I’m sure it’s just - whatever this threat to her is. Nothing else.”Weaver shrugged again, and took another drink.“You know, you guys can always borrow our cabin again, if you want to get away for a few days,” added Nolan and Weaver gave him a wry smile.“What, a second honeymoon?” he said.
“I don’t think we’re ready for that, but thanks for the offer.
I need to work out what the hell has her so scared. If I can find that out, and fucking deal with it so it can’t hurt her again, maybe we’ll be okay.
Maybe.”“What about asking Fa to help out?” asked Nolan.Weaver shook his head.“I don’t want her involved,” he said.
“It’s not as though there’s a case to crack, unless you count Heller’s murder.”“You think she’d care about that?”Weaver eyed him.“She’s even more of a stickler for the rules than you were,” he said.
“Good detective, though.”“Exactly.
Maybe a fresh pair of eyes…”Weaver shook his head.“Look, I don’t know where I’m gonna end up by following these threads,” he sighed, gesturing at the whiteboard.
“Could be nothing. Could be a massive pile of shit’s about to drop on me, and if that’s the case, I don’t want it landing on her too.
If this is something that brings me down, I don’t want her taking a fall with me.”“She’d want to help,” insisted Nolan, and Weaver shook his head, rolling the board marker between his fingers.“I won’t do it,” he said shortly.
“Not again.”Nolan sighed, the wheels on his chair squeaking as he moved nearer.“Look, man,” he said gently.
“Would you stop blaming yourself for what happened to me?
I didn’t have to follow you in there that night. It wasn’t your fault, any more than it was my fault, okay?”Weaver was silent, and Nolan shook his head.“Fa would want to help,” he said again.
“She’s gonna kick your ass if she finds out you put yourself in danger without telling her about it.”“Who says I’m in danger?” asked Weaver impatiently.
“At the moment all I have is - is a bloody whiteboard!
A whiteboard filled with loose connections that don’t even make sense!”“So let’s make some sense of a few of them,” suggested Nolan.
“You did say we needed a bottom feeder. How about we go and call on a rat?”Weaver raised an eyebrow.“Hamelin, you mean?” he asked.
“I suppose the little shit’s due a visit.
I’ve been paying him to keep his eyes open, but I’ve had nothing useful out of him in weeks.”“I’ll come with you.”Weaver stared at him for a moment, then shook his head.“Snow would kill me.”“She wouldn’t!
Besides, she asked me to go fetch some takeout in time for her getting back with Neal.
If we left now, and we happened to take a detour…”“I am not taking you on an expedition to interrogate an informant!” snapped Weaver.“I’m just saying we head down to the bars he hangs out in and get a drink,” said Nolan easily.
“Nothing’s gonna happen.”“Well, now you’ve fucking jinxed it.
We’re both dead.”“Come on, let me live a little!”“I’d prefer to let you live a lot.”“Weaver, come on,” pressed Nolan. “Just this once!
We can do the old ‘good cop bad cop’ routine.”Weaver sighed heavily, fixing him with a flat stare.“If you get killed, they’d better shoot me too, because if Snow gets to me I doubt I’ll have a quick death.”“Don’t be so dramatic.”
Nolan took the unfinished beer from him.
“Come on, I’ll drive.”Rain was starting to fall again as Weaver entered the bar, trickling down inside his collar and making him shiver.
At six-fifty it was relatively quiet, a large screen blasting out highlights of a football game with the few customers eyeing it over their beers.
Weaver’s mouth flattened as he spied a small, thin man turn away from the bar and walk swiftly to the rear. He followed, fists opening and clenching, and the man quickened his pace until he was almost running.
The rear door squeaked open under his hurried shove, and Weaver heard a muffled cry of surprise and pain. Heading through the door into a narrow alleyway, he could see the man sprawled on the ground with Nolan’s large hand twisted in his collar.“Sorry about that, friend,” said Nolan genially.
“Didn’t see you there. This chair’s a bitch to manoeuvre.”“Let me go, you asshole!” snapped the little man.
“You touch me and you’re fucking dead meat! I know people, you got me?”“Alright, give him here,” said Weaver, in a bored voice.
“Hamelin, get your arse up before I fucking drag you.”Hamelin gave him an ingratiating smile, somewhat spoiled by the missing tooth on his upper jaw.
He was a hollow-cheeked, rat-faced man with a long nose and thin dark hair, and he squawked a little as Weaver hauled him upright by the lapels of his leather jacket and shoved him against the wall.“W-Weaver!” he said, his voice high with anxiety.
“I - I didn’t realise it was you!”“Bollocks,” said Weaver, in a flat tone.
“Where’ve you been hiding? I’ve had nothing out of you in fucking weeks.
Do you think you can take my money and just piss it up the wall?”“Hey, if there was something going on I’d tell you in a second!” protested Hamelin.
“But it’s been real quiet around here lately, and—”“I just raided a fucking meth lab earlier today, don’t fucking lie to me!” snapped Weaver.
“That has to have caused some gossip amongst the fucking scum you like to drink with.”“Well, I’m not saying you’re making Seattle’s top ten of favourite cops in this place, but—”“Anyway, that’s not why we’re here,” interrupted Weaver.
“I need some info on someone in town. Someone new.”Hamelin glanced rapidly from left to right, as though checking they were still alone.“Who?” he asked suspiciously.“I don’t know,” said Weaver, cursing his lack of solid facts as Hamelin curled his lip in derision.“Is this a joke?
You want me to tell you about someone but you don’t know who?”“Someone who turned up maybe four months ago,” said Weaver, using as accurate a date as he could.
“Maybe they stayed around, maybe not, but if not, they’re at least visiting regularly.”“Someone big enough to scare your usual drinking buddies,” added Nolan, and Hamelin eyed him for a moment before shrugging.“I - I have no idea who you could mean.”“You know, for an informant you’re remarkably ill-fucking-informed.”“Weaver, you’re killing me…”“Not at the moment I’m not,” said Weaver coldly.
“But all that could easily change, as I’m sure you remember.”“Come on, man!”
Hamelin spread his hands in protest.
“I have to walk these streets when we’re done!”“I’m not asking you to bloody well spy on them for me!” snapped Weaver.“All we need is a name and description,” added Nolan.
“We can take it from there. Just tell anyone who asks that we forced you into it.”“I can always beat you up from the sake of authenticity, if it makes things easier,” offered Weaver, and Hamelin flinched.“Alright, alright!” he snapped.
“I might have heard - something.”“Good.”
Weaver shoved him back against the wall again.
“Spill.”“They call her the Black Fairy,” he said.
“Dark hair and expensive suits. Probably one of those cougar-types, you know?
Word is she’s hot as hell but would cut your balls off soon as look at you. I heard she was up from Vegas.”“What for?”“Business.”“With who?”“I don’t know, man.
None of the usual crowd, that’s for sure.
The whisper is that it was something personal.”“Personal?”
Weaver frowned.
“As in family?”“I don’t know,” insisted Hamelin.
“Don’t even know her name, only that she’s called the Black Fairy.
Apparently there’s a Blue Fairy as well. Doesn’t sound too bad, right, but I’ve seen grown men twice your size shut their mouths and back the fuck away when they’re mentioned.
Real heavy hitters down in the desert. Escorted around the place by huge dead-eyed fucks who’d feed you feet-first into a mincer for looking at their boss wrong, you know what I’m saying?”“I know,” said Weaver quietly, thinking hard.
Vegas again.
I wonder…
“When did they arrive?”Hamelin screwed up his nose, the gesture making him look even more ratlike.“Can’t be sure, but I first got whispers of ‘em a few months ago.
Late summer, I guess.”“And you said nothing?” said Weaver flatly.
“What the hell do I pay you for?”“Hey, I didn’t know you’d be interested!” he protested.
“Not like they were causing trouble! Just turned up, did their business and went home again.”“How often?”“Can’t say for sure,” said Hamelin.
“I heard a rumour the Blue Fairy was here this week.
No description of her, though.”“Anyone got more information on this rumour?” asked Weaver.“No one who’ll talk to you.”“Then it’s a good thing I have you to ask questions for me, isn’t it?”“Give me a fucking break, man!
You don’t pay me enough to risk my neck!”“You’re a dramatic little bitch!” growled Weaver.“Yeah, and I wanna stay that way!”“This business,” said Nolan calmly, drawing Hamelin’s attention again.
“What was it? Drugs? Guns?”“No idea,” he said, with a shrug.
“Like I said. Personal. Nothing that moved in on any of the local big bads, anyhow.
Far as I can tell the Fairies paid their respects and were in and out nice as you please.”“And all you know are their bloody nicknames?” asked Weaver.
“Black and Blue Fairies? You sure you’re not just taking the fucking piss?”“Hey, would I lie to my favourite detective?”“You’d sell out your grandmother for a half-eaten hotdog,” said Weaver flatly.“That’s harsh, Weaver.
I’m wounded.
I’m in actual physical pain here.”“Shut up.”
Weaver glanced at Nolan.
“What do you think?”“Vegas again,” said Nolan, echoing his own thoughts, and Weaver nodded grimly.“So - so that’s everything,” added Hamelin, and cocked his head to the side.
“You gonna let me down and pay me, or what?”Weaver eyed him suspiciously, and released his lapels, stepping back and reaching inside his jacket for some cash.
Hamelin brushed himself down, tugging his jacket straight, and took the money.“Pleasure doing business with you, detective,” he said, flipping a salute.“You hear anything on these - Fairies,” said Weaver.
“You let me know, you hear me?”“Loud and clear.”“You want me to punch you in the face?” asked Weaver, and Hamelin sighed heavily.“Alright,” he said resignedly.
“I guess a bruise or two would help if anyone asks what you two wanted.
Just - not the nose, okay?”“So,” said Nolan, as they made their way back to his car.
“You think these - Fairies - and Lacey are linked?”“I don’t know,” said Weaver grimly, massaging his knuckles.
“The timing matches up, but that doesn’t mean anything.”“Vegas again, though,” offered Nolan.“Yeah.
Could be a coincidence.
Not like Sin City is short on criminals.”"You don't believe in coincidences, remember?""Yeah, but this time I want to.
Better that than think she's in serious danger."
He grimaced.
"Fuck, I hate this!
I hate feeling fucking useless!"“Give yourself a break, you're doing what you can.”
Nolan pointed his keys at the car, unlocking it as he rolled up.
“What are you gonna do now?”“Follow my gut, I guess,” sighed Weaver.
“Heller’s murder is making my nose twitch.
There’s something there. Something I need to find.”“We couldn’t find anything before,” Nolan reminded him.“I know.”
Weaver shoved his hands in his pockets, hunching his shoulders against the falling rain.
“But maybe we were looking in the wrong place.”The next day, Weaver went into work feeling more positive than he had been in months.
Even if he had no answers, it helped to be looking into things. It gave him at least the appearance of being in control of his own destiny, if nothing else.He parked at the precinct and walked to the deli around the corner, buying a box of mixed donuts and heading back with it under his arm.
It was a relatively fine day, enough that he had needed to don his sunglasses, and the weather further lifted his mood. The scent of coffee was filtering along the corridor as he neared the office, and Merida glanced around as he entered.“Ah, fresh coffee,” he said, with relish.
“Just the thing to make this beautiful morning perfect.
Did I ever tell you how much I appreciate you, Officer Dunbroch?”“Not usually,” she said.
“What’s got you in such a good mood?
You get laid last night, or something?”Weaver frowned.“You have a one-track mind,” he said.
“Anyway, I need a favour.”She looked suspicious.“Thought there must be something,” she said.
“What kind of a favour?”“The dull, boring, monotonous kind,” he said apologetically, and opened the box.
“Look, I bring donuts as a bribe.”“God, this favour must be boring as fuck,” she declared, but took a donut anyway.
“Go on, let’s hear it.”"That cold case you pulled for me," he said, as she took a bite.
"The victim was a lawyer.
I need you to go through his client list and pick out any that had dealings in Las Vegas.
Either that, or any with a connection to - to some other part of the US.”“Which other part?”“I don’t know.”"How many clients are we talking?""Couple of hundred."Merida stared at him incredulously as she chewed and swallowed, lips shiny with sugar glaze.“Oh, right,” she said sarcastically.
“So when you said it was boring and monotonous, you weren’t kidding.”“Did I mention the donuts?”“That’ll take me bloody ages!” she complained.“Your social life suddenly more interesting, or something?” he enquired, and was amused to see her blush.“Shut up.”“Admit that you have a date with Fa, and I swear I’ll say nothing further on the subject.”She glared at him as she gestured with the half-eaten donut, red curls swinging.“It’s drinks and a movie, that’s it!”“Sounds like a date to me.”“Do you want me to do your bloody searches or not?”“Please,” he said cheerfully.
“Anything that points to an area outside of Seattle.
But prioritise those with a Vegas connection.”“And what are you gonna do?”“Try to get through the cases that Drake keeps piling on my desk,” he said, eyeing his in-tray.“So you’re looking into that murder case again, then?” she enquired.
“Better not step on Homicide’s toes.”“No one’s looked at that case in years, it’s colder than the Arctic,” he said dismissively.
“I just have a hunch, that’s all.”“Well, those usually turn out okay,” she said.
“I’d better get started. You can pour your own bloody coffee.”“Happy to.”“Pour one for me while you’re at it,” she added, and stuffed the rest of the donut into her mouth before taking another.Weaver did work through his new cases, dealing with quick queries before moving on to those that required more of his attention.
He worked through lunch, and once he had set the last aside, he continued his investigation into Lacey.
Since he had temporarily hit a wall on her present difficulties, he had decided to concentrate on her past, about which he knew precious little.
He knew her name and date of birth, but as far as her family went, he had nothing.
He was aware that she had kept in touch with a friend from Maine, but he had no idea who it was, or if they were even a relative.She was an American citizen, so there must have been a record of the family’s naturalisation, but searching the name French yielded nothing that linked to Lacey.
Weaver tapped his fingers on the desk, frowning. An uneasy feeling was spreading up from his spine, a twinge in his gut that he had learned to trust over the years.
He stopped searching under French, and instead started looking for immigrants from Australia naturalised in Nevada over a five year-period covering the time between Lacey’s fifth and tenth birthday.
A list of records popped up, and after reading through it carefully, Weaver sat back with a sigh. No one by the name of French, or anything even remotely similar. As he had thought.He sat forward, eyes running down the list, and they narrowed as he caught something.
Schwartz.
A familiar name, and one which was making that twinge in his gut increase.
Weaver stroked his chin, nodding grimly before picking up his pencil and notepad.
This was going to take some time.“Got your searches done.”Merida’s voice made him start, and he sat back, clicking at the computer screen to minimise what he had been doing.“I sent you an email,” she added.
“Take a look. I put them in name order, but you can change it around if you like.”"Any more coffee?""God, no rest for the fucking wicked!" she grumbled."I could use the caffeine.""I bet," she said sternly.
"Did you even eat lunch?""No.""There's four donuts right there," she said, pointing at the open box."I wasn't hungry," he said impatiently."Oh, starve to death, see if I care!" she snapped.
"Just look at your bloody searches."Weaver opened up the email, clicking on the spreadsheet she had attached, filled with a list of names, dates of birth and addresses.“So, his clients were a miserable bunch of petty crooks and drunks, seems to me,” she said.
“Very good at getting arrested, not much going for them otherwise. Most of them seem to have family willing to bail ‘em out, so I focused on the ones with out of town connections.”“Good.
What’s the verdict?”“There were several with relatives in California,” she went on, gesturing at the screen.
“This one had a base in Maine, there are two with summer homes in New Jersey… How do you manage to get a bloody summer home, anyway?
I can barely afford the one I’ve got. I guess the guys on your list were the black sheep of the family, huh?”“Did you say Maine?” he asked, and she shrugged, peering at the screen.“Address given was care of someone in Storybrooke, Maine.”“Never heard of it.”“Neither had I, until I looked it up,” she said.
“Couldn’t resist, the name was too cute, and it’s exactly what you’d think a town called Storybrooke would be.
Small town on the coast, fishing port, regular bake sales and local artisan crafts... Sounds so quaint you want to kill yourself.”“Long way from Vegas.”“So’s Seattle.”Weaver grunted.“Okay, thanks for that,” he said.
“Anything else leap out at you?”“Not really.
You can go through the list in your own time, though.”“I will.”
He looked up at her.
“Are you done for the day?”“Pretty much.
A few of us are heading to Roni’s for a drink.
Want to come?”“No.
Lacey’s bringing Tilly over in an hour.”“Oh.
Well, give them both my love.”“I will.”“And don’t work too late, either.”“Yes, Mum.”She shot him a look, then took a donut and stomped out again, leaving him with a faint grin on his face.
Weaver turned back to his computer, running his eyes down the list that Merida had compiled.

There’s something here.
I know it. Lacey was tired: stress, guilt and anxiety had been stealing her sleep and wearing her down, and she wanted nothing more than to go home and crawl into bed and drink hot chocolate.
Preferably with her husband and their daughter, just like old times.
Instead she was on her way to drop Tilly off with Weaver for a few days, and it was the last thing she wanted to do.
The fine day had ended poorly; the evening was dark and miserable, driving rain turning to sleet as she walked swiftly along the street to the precinct with Tilly balanced on her hip and the little suitcase being wheeled along beside her.“I’m hungry,” Tilly grumbled.“You can have dinner with Daddy, okay?” she said soothingly.“I want pizza.”“Maybe Daddy’ll make you pizza for dinner.”“I want Daddy home.”Lacey squeezed her eyes shut momentarily.“I know, sweetie.”
She kissed Tilly’s cheek.
“I’m sorry.”She felt like crying again, so she was relieved when Tilly fell silent.
Lacey’s legs wobbled a little as she entered the precinct, and she let Tilly slip to the ground, grasping her hand to lead her inside.
Her heart was thumping hard in her chest, nerves making her breath catch. The officer at the front desk smiled in recognition, and nodded her through, and Lacey tried to calm her racing heart as she led Tilly along the corridor.“Daddy!” said Tilly excitedly.Weaver looked up from his desk, a broad smile breaking across his face as he saw them, and Lacey felt guilt stabbing at her, raking her innards with steel claws.
Lacey released Tilly’s hand and let her run to him, and Weaver swung her up in his arms and hugged her tight.“Hey, princess.”
He kissed her cheek.
“Have you been a good girl?”“Yes,” said Tilly stoutly.
“I want pizza.”He laughed, and kissed her again.“Well, let’s see what we can do about that,” he said, and turned her around to sit on his knee.
Lacey slumped into the chair opposite with a heavy sigh.“You alright?” he asked, and she nodded.“Fine,” she lied.
“Just tired. You on your own here?”“Everyone’s gone to Roni’s,” he said, with a shrug.
“Fa and Dunbroch finally have a date, by the way.”Lacey smiled faintly.“Good for them.”“Yeah.”
Weaver bounced Tilly on his knee.
“Anything planned for the next couple of days?”Lacey shifted uneasily.“Laundry and crappy TV, mostly,” she said.
“You?”“Well, I thought I might take Tilly swimming,” he said.“Yeah!” said Tilly excitedly.“I didn’t pack her suit,” said Lacey.“That’s okay, I can drop by your place and pick one up,” he said.
“If that’s alright.”“Sure.”Tilly slipped from Weaver’s lap and wandered over to inspect the contents of the waste paper basket, and Weaver caught Lacey’s eye.
He looked hesitant, as though he wanted to say something but was unsure how she would react. She hated that she made him feel that way.“You know you said maybe we could spend some time together this weekend?” he said.
“Nolan offered us his cabin.”“Not really the weather for a trip to the woods, is it?”“It’s just a thought,” he said wearily, sitting back, as though in defeat.“Sorry.”
Sharp needles of guilt pierced her.
“I’m sorry. I’ll think about it.”He nodded, but he wasn’t looking at her, his gaze turned to his computer screen.
It was locked, a square box asking for a password. She took a deep breath, steeling herself.
It was time.“Oh, since I’m here, I wanted to ask you something,” she said, in a casual tone.
“You know that murder I witnessed, the night we met? What was the guy’s name again?
Hector, Hiller…”“Heller,” said Weaver, looking back at her.
“Isaac Heller.”“That’s it.”
She shifted in her seat.
“You ever crack that case?”He eyed her for a moment, then glanced away.“No,” he said.
“We thought we’d found out who the murderers were, remember, but we couldn’t prove who had hired them.
Then after Nolan was shot, they turned up dead, so there wasn’t enough hard evidence to make any arrests…” He shrugged, the irritation over an unsolved case evident in the gesture.
“Case is cold. Why?”“Oh, because someone mentioned him in The Rabbit Hole last night,” she said, and held up a hand as he opened his mouth.
“Before you say anything, I wasn’t working. I just went to pick up my wages.
Garrett wasn’t even there.”He nodded, sitting forward and clearing the scowl from his face.“Who mentioned Isaac Heller, and what did they say?”“Don’t know who it was,” she said vaguely.
“Never seen ‘em before, and I wasn’t really paying attention, but then one of them mentioned ‘the lawyer that got pulled out of the harbour’, and he was the only one I could think of.”“Okay.”
Weaver grabbed a notebook and pencil.
“Tell me exactly what was said.”“Hmm.”
Lacey chewed her lip.
“Exactly? I think it was something like ‘you know, that lawyer that got pulled out of the harbour?
I thought he hadn’t paid his debts, but it turns out he had information’. And then the other guy said ‘what kind of information?’ and the first guy said ‘a code. The key to a pile of cash’.
That’s what made me think it must be our guy, because we found that key, remember?
And - and that code, written on the sticky note?”Weaver stopped scribbling and looked up, his eyes narrowing a little.“Right,” he said.
“There was a note.
A series of letters and numbers.
You said it looked like a wifi password.”Lacey shrugged.“What do I know?
Maybe not. What if it’s a code to get into something else?
Like - like a computer program, or - or whatever those guys were talking about.
Maybe he was waiting to hand it over, and he got killed before I could turn up with the package, right?”“Maybe,” he said slowly.
“We’re reaching, but maybe you’re right.
I know we couldn’t find any obvious use for the code based on Heller’s belongings or internet accounts.”“Well, I guess it’s been awhile since you saw it,” she said, with a shrug.
“Maybe you should take a look.”He sat back slowly, his face expressionless.“I don’t work Homicide anymore.”“Oh, so you don’t want to solve the murder?”
She shrugged again. “I guess I can understand that.
No point doing someone else’s work, right?”Weaver tapped his pencil against his notebook.
She was aware it was an unconscious habit of his, indicating that he was thinking.
His eyes never left hers, and it made her want to squirm, as though she was the murderer herself.
As though she was guilty.“Wait here,” he said abruptly, and got up, striding from the room.Lacey sat back in her chair with a sigh, glancing around the place and keeping half an eye on Tilly, who had climbed onto Weaver’s chair and was making it spin around by kicking at the edge of his desk.“I wanna pee,” she said.“Wait until Daddy gets back, okay?”Tilly blew a raspberry, head rolling back as the chair turned around, and Lacey stilled her restless feet from tapping on the tiled floor.
She folded her hands in her lap, trying to present as calm and uninterested a picture as possible, and after a few minutes Weaver returned with an envelope in his hands.
He opened it up, pulling out a piece of thick paper folded into thirds.“This is what you were due to deliver to the victim,” he said.“Yeah, I remember,” she said, in an offhand tone.“Daddy, I wanna pee,” said Tilly insistently, and Weaver glanced across at her.“Can you take her?” asked Lacey with a sigh.
“My feet are killing me.”“No problem.”
Weaver dropped the envelope and the piece of paper onto his desk, and held out his hand.
“Come on, sweetheart.”Tilly slipped from the chair, reaching up to take his hand, and he led her from the office into the corridor where the restrooms were housed.
Lacey craned her neck to check they had gone, and sat up, grabbing the envelope and tipping it upside down.
A tiny silver key fell out into her hand, and Lacey set it on the desk before reaching into her pocket for a key of a similar size.
She fretted a little over the differences, but she doubted they would be enough to cause suspicion; two safe deposit box keys looked much alike.
She dropped it into the envelope, setting it back on the desk in what she thought was the same position as Weaver had left it.
She then pocketed the original key,
pulling her phone from her pocket and flicking it to camera mode, then leaned forward to open up the paper itself.It was good quality paper, smooth between her fingers, with a single sentence written in black ink and a green sticky note with a seemingly random sequence of letters and numbers on it.
She took pictures, one of the paper itself, and two of the note, each focused to give the best view of the code. Carefully folding the paper again, she replaced it on the desk, checking both its position and the envelope’s to ensure they would appear undisturbed from where Weaver had dropped them.Sitting back in the chair, she slipped her phone back into her pocket, hearing a tiny clink as it knocked against the stolen key, and tried to calm her racing heart as she waited for Weaver to return.
He was back with her in a couple of minutes, Tilly clutching his hand.“Look, I’d better get going,” said Lacey.
“Crappy TV shows won’t watch themselves.”“You know, you’re always welcome to come for dinner,” he said.She tried to smile, guilt biting at her, gnawing at her.“Maybe some other time.”He glanced at the evidence on his desk, and she felt her heart thump, sudden fear that he could sense what she had done.“I’ll take a look at the Heller thing tomorrow,” he said.
“If you hang on for five minutes, I’ll check this back into the evidence room and give you a lift home.”“Oh, you don’t have to do that,” she said hastily.“I do if I want to pick up Tilly’s swimsuit.”“Right,” she said lamely.
“Yeah. Sure.”Weaver picked up the letter, sliding it back into the envelope with the fake key.“Back in a minute,” he said.Lacey slumped back in the chair as he left, arms going around Tilly as she climbed onto her lap.“I want pizza,” she grumbled.“I know, baby.”
Lacey kissed the top of her head.
“Daddy’s gonna buy you pizza.”“You come too?”“I can’t, sweetie, I’m sorry.”“Why not?”Tilly looked up at her curiously, dark eyes wide, and Lacey sighed.“I have to work,” she lied.“Oh.”
Tilly wrinkled her nose.
“Work is stupid!”“Yeah, it sure is.”Tilly snuggled against her chest and stuck her thumb in her mouth, and Lacey kissed her head again, breathing in the scent of her.
The sound of Weaver’s footsteps made her look around, and she watched as he grabbed his jacket and pulled it on. He nodded to her brusquely, not quite meeting her eyes, and there was something in his face: a weariness that made her heart clench.
She hated that she was probably the cause.“Right,” he said.
“Let’s get going.”The journey back to the apartment was made in near silence, the only break in it Tilly seeking assurance that they would indeed be going for pizza afterwards.
Weaver carried her case up to the apartment, and Tilly jumped onto the couch and reached for the TV remote as he and Lacey went into her room to retrieve the swimsuit.
The sound of a cartoon had started up in the lounge, something bright and cheerful, and Lacey was glad of the noise.
Anything to lift the cold, heavy silence that seemed to follow her around.
She rummaged in the third drawer of the dresser.“She likes the octopus one,” she said, fishing out a blue swimsuit.“Thanks.”“Hang on, there are water wings in the box under the bed.”She could feel him watching her as she pulled out the box, pushing aside toys and books and retrieving the orange plastic water wings.
She shoved the box back under, pushing to her feet and holding them out. Weaver nodded, taking them from her and opening up the little suitcase before dropping them in along with the swimsuit.“Looks like we’re all set,” he said.“Have fun.”He zipped the case and paused a moment, tented fingers resting on the outer shell, eyes staring at nothing.“Guess I’ll see you Friday,” she added.
“You’d better go get that pizza.”“Lacey,” he said quietly.
“Just - just a minute.”He had turned to face her, and was watching her with dark eyes, his expression something she couldn’t quite interpret. Love, perhaps, though God knew she had done nothing to deserve it. Love tinged with sadness, with quiet desperation. It made the well of tears inside her rise up, threatening to overflow and drown her in sorrow.“Whatever’s going on with you,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “You know - you know you can tell me anything, right? You know I would never judge you, that I’d want to help you.”“You can’t,” she said abruptly, and wanted to bite her tongue.
She squeezed her eyes shut, hoping the tears wouldn’t spill out.
“What I mean is, there’s nothing I need help with.”He was still staring at her, and it hurt, as though his gaze could pierce her chest and see into her soul.
As though there was something there worth saving. She clenched her jaw, raising her chin.“I know you think there’s some big secret I’m keeping, Rafe,” she said clearly.
“Something that I’m not letting you in on, for whatever reason you’ve cooked up in that mind of yours.”“Well, that’s because you’re a terrible liar, and I’m not stupid,” he said stiffly.
“And because I know you. I know you need my help, and I know you’re too brave and too bloody stubborn to ask for it.”“I’m not brave,” she muttered.“You are,” he said, and his tone was gentle again. “You’re the bravest person I know.”
I’m not, I’m a fucking coward!
“I don’t need your help,” she snapped, raising her hands and letting them fall against her thighs with a slap.
“God, it’d be so much easier if there was some dark tale of bloody woe I was keeping from you!
It would probably hurt less than the truth!”“‘The truth’,” he said flatly.
“I’m still waiting for the bloody truth!”“I told you—”“No.”
He shook his head, sadness in his eyes.
“You haven’t. But I’ll wait. And - and I’ll go on waiting, Lacey.
Whenever you want to tell me, I’ll be waiting to hear it.”Lacey stepped forward.“But the truth is just - ordinary,” she said gently.
“No terrible secrets, no dark deeds to discover. Just two people who don’t belong together.
Happens every day. This time it happened to us. That’s all there is. That’s it.”There was silence for a moment, a long, terrible moment in which he held her gaze, the twitch of his mouth the only hint that she had stuck a dagger in his heart and twisted it.
It made her want to break down and weep, to fall into his arms and beg forgiveness. Her lower lip trembled, and she snatched at it with her teeth to hold it still. Blood bloomed on her tongue, the taste of iron and salt, and her eyes stung with tears.
He had glanced away from her, his face tight with pain, but he took a breath before meeting her eyes again.“Nevertheless,” he said, his voice hoarse and heavy with emotion.
“If you need my help for any reason, all you have to do is ask.”“I already told you—”“Any reason,” he repeated.
“I mean it. We’re still friends, no matter what.
I still love you, Lacey. I always will.”She didn’t trust herself to speak, her fists clenched at her sides, nails digging into her palms to distract her from the pain in her heart.
He finally looked away, before glancing back, nodding once, and grasping the case in his hand. Footsteps echoed back at her as he walked though the apartment, the sound of him leaving, and she closed her eyes.
He wouldn’t give up on her. He would never give up on her.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Weaver was glad he had the distraction on his day off work of having arranged a playdate for Tilly with Neal Nolan. He felt as though he was going slowly mad, but he knew that spending time with his daughter would do him good, not to mention it would give Nolan a chance to talk some sense into him. He needed that more than ever.They spent the morning at the park, followed by a picnic lunch in the lounge while watching a Disney film. Nolan had suggested a painting session before their trip to the swimming pool that afternoon, and as it was his house Weaver figured it was up to him how much mess was made in it. They set the children up with a plastic sheet spread over the kitchen table, paint pots and brushes and a ready supply of old rags to mop up any spillages. After twenty minutes or so, Weaver left Nolan supervising the building chaos and went out to the garage, where his whiteboard was growing more cluttered by the day. He needed to add a good bit of information to it following Lacey’s visit to the station and his own research.He had pulled a series of mugshots of local criminals who were known to be for hire to bigger fish, and lined them up at the base of the board, looking them over. Further investigations into the Black Fairy hadn’t yielded much from his informants, but there was general agreement that one of the men rumoured to accompany her during her visits had been dark-haired and fairly good-looking. He wasn’t sure which of the six potential candidates he had chosen would be the one, but he hoped that seeing their faces would spark some sort of connection in his brain.“Daddy, look!”Weaver turned at the sound of Tilly’s voice, smiling as she held up a piece of paper, dripping watery colour on the granite floor.“Here, sweetheart, let me take that off you,” he said, grasping the edge and holding it level. “Wow, that’s great! Is that a dog?”“It’s Wilby,” she confirmed. “Can we get a doggy?”“Uh - I don’t think you can have pets in the apartment,” he said, and she pouted.“That’s stupid.”“I know.”He studied the painted dog, a dark blue mess of colour with a bushy tail and a lolling red tongue about half its size. Perhaps there was a way to get a dog for her. It would mean getting his own place, perhaps a tiny house in the suburbs, but that would be better for her, right? Space to play outside, to rough and tumble with a dog, to be a kid. It was about time he gave up apartment living and thought about what was best for his daughter. Commuting to and from the precinct wouldn’t fucking kill him.While he was thinking over their possible future, Tilly had walked over to the whiteboard and was staring up at it.“Bad man!” she declared, and Weaver turned.“Who’s bad?” he asked, and Tilly slapped one of the pictures.“Bad!”Weaver set down the painting carefully, moving to join her.“This man?” he said, plucking the picture from beneath its magnetic button. “Have you seen him before?”Tilly screwed up her face, then nodded.“Where?” asked Weaver. “Did he come to the apartment?”A pause, then another nod.“Did you talk to him?”“No,” she said decidedly. “He smells.”“Good girl.” He ruffled her curls. “What about these other men? Did you see any of those?”Tilly frowned at the pictures, then shook her head.“Okay,” said Weaver. “Hey, how about you paint me a picture of Dragon while I make some lemonade for you and Neal?”“Yeah!”She ran back to the kitchen, and Weaver frowned at the photograph in his hands. A dark-haired man with a close-cropped beard and a faint scowl looked out at him. His name was Arthur Penn, according to the mugshot. A history of petty thefts, witness intimidation and assault convictions. It would be interesting to find out what he had been doing in Lacey’s apartment.“So you definitely have it, then?”Arthur’s voice was a drawl, the tone of someone who had heard it all before and suspected he was being lied to. Lacey felt her jaw protrude in annoyance.“I said I’d get it, and I did,” she said curtly. “I’ve booked a flight out tomorrow morning.”“In that case I’ll have someone meet you in Boston,” he said. “We wouldn’t want you to get lost, would we?”“Fine,” she said wearily. “Whatever.”“You don’t sound too enthusiastic about it.”“I just want this over with, okay?”“Alright,” he said. “Text me the flight details, I’ll make sure there’s someone waiting for you.”“Great.”She rang off before he could say anything else, texting the flight number and arrival time before dropping the phone on the bed. The apartment seemed very empty with Tilly gone, and she sat for a moment, staring at her hands where they lay folded in her lap, slim fingers threaded together. She couldn’t keep putting it off forever. It was time.Fingers trembling a little, she picked up the phone again, this time to call Weaver. Every cell in her brain was screaming at her that she was a coward, that she should at least have the decency to look him in the eye when she lied through her teeth, but she knew she couldn’t do it. The faceless distance of a phonecall was as much as she could manage. At least it wasn’t a text.“Hey,” he said, when he picked up, and she squeezed her eyes shut. He sounded - cautious. Could she blame him?“Hey,” she said. “How’s Tilly?”“She’s fine,” he said, after a pause. “We’re over at Nolan’s. Play date with Neal. They’ve been painting, so once we get them cleaned up, it’s off to the pool. I told them we’d go for burgers afterwards. Is that okay with you?”“Of course,” she said. “You don’t need my permission.”“Okay.” Another pause. “Look, I’m glad you called. I wanted to talk about this weekend—”“Yeah, about that,” she interrupted. “I know I said maybe we’d do something, but I can’t. I need your help.”“What’s wrong?” he asked immediately.“Nothing,” she lied. “At least, nothing serious. I have a funeral to go to, and it’d be easier if Tilly could stay with you for a few days.”“Funeral?” he said. “Whose funeral?”“Old friend.”“Which old friend?” He sounded suspicious now, and she wished she could have come up with something more convincing. “The only friend I’ve ever heard you mention was in Maine.”“Yeah, it’s not Maine,” she said quickly. “It’s Vegas. And - and it’s not really a friend, okay? It’s a family member that I’m not sorry is dead.”“Right.” Silence. “Do you want to talk about it?”“No.” She sighed, running a hand over her face. “No, it’s fine. Can’t decide whether I’m going to pay my respects or just make sure they’re really in the damn ground, you know?”Weaver was quiet for a moment.“I’m sorry, Lacey.”“Don’t be,” she said wearily. “Just - can you look after Tilly for a few days?”“Of course. You don’t have to ask.”“I know you have work, that’s all.”“I can take some time off,” he said gently. “Just go and deal with your - family thing.”“Thank you.” She bit her lip, clutching at the phone. “You’re good to me, Rafe. And to Tilly. You’re a good father. A good man.”“I don’t know about the last part,” he said. “But you both make me want to be better.”She screwed up her face, eyes stinging, and Weaver sighed.
“Lacey, I meant what I said. You can tell me anything.”“I know,” she whispered. “I’ll be back by Tuesday, okay?”“Are you flying?”“Yeah.”“Do you need money?”“No, I’m fine.”“Okay,” he said. “When do you go?”“Tomorrow,” she said. “First flight out.”“Call me when you get the chance,” he said. “I’d like to know you got there okay. Safe trip.”The phone clicked as he hung up, and Lacey tossed it aside, covering her face with her hands and wondering if she would ever hear his voice again.Weaver slipped his phone back into his pocket, mouth twisting. The chatter of the children behind him was light and cheerful, an odd counterpoint to the dark clouds that seemed to be swirling around him. He glanced at the jug of lemonade he had prepared, condensation starting to form on the glass as the ice cooled it from within.“You okay?”Weaver started at the sound of Nolan’s voice, turning to face him. Nolan was staring up at him from the chair, concern on his face, and Weaver jerked his head towards the garage before striding off. He heard the squeak of Nolan’s chair as he followed. The whiteboard stood where he had left it, one of the pictures having come free of its button and fluttered to the ground. Weaver snatched it up, crushing it into a ball between his palms as anger and frustration made his breathing quicken.“Whatever’s going on with her, it’s happening this weekend,” he snapped.“Lacey?”“Yes, bloody Lacey! She just called up to tell me some bullshit about a family funeral!” He fired the ball of paper at the wall, watching it bounce off and fall forlornly to the floor. “What the hell am I supposed to do? I can’t leave Tilly and go chasing after her, even if I knew where she was going!”“Didn’t she say?”“Oh, she said she was going to Vegas, but that’s bollocks.” Weaver began striding back and forth. “No, I reckon she’s going to Maine. Storybrooke, to be precise.”“What for?” asked Nolan.“Not sure yet,” he admitted. “I may have a lead, though. Tilly recognised one of these creeps.” He gestured at the picture of Arthur Penn. “I think I might have a word with him.”“Great, I’ll come too.”“No, you fucking will not!” snapped Weaver. “Beating up Hamelin for intel is one thing, tracking down a fucking big bad’s lackey is something else entirely.”“Oh, come on!”“No fucking way, Snow would kill me!”“Snow would kill you for what?”The sound of his wife’s voice made Nolan start in his chair and crane his neck towards the doorway. Snow was standing with her arms folded, one eyebrow raised.“Oh, hey honey,” said Nolan lamely. “You’re back early.”“Just as well, by the sound of it,” she said, in a dry tone. “What are you threatening to get involved in now?”“I - nothing, I was just—”“I need to go and beat the crap out of someone so they’ll tell me why my wife is in danger,” said Weaver, catching Snow’s eye. “I may also need to chase my wife all the way to Maine to get her out of whatever shitty situation she’s found herself in. Neither of which is something I want my daughter involved in. Or your husband.”“Good,” she said, shooting Nolan a flat look before glancing back. “In that case, go do what you have to do. Tilly’s more than welcome to stay with us.”Weaver hesitated.“Look, it’s not that I don’t appreciate it,” he said. “It’s just - these are bad people, and if I can get to Lacey before she does whatever stupid thing she’s planning on doing, they might take offence. I don’t want them posing any risk to Tilly, or to you. It’s known that we’re friends, and they might - well, they might come here, that’s all.”Snow seemed to think for a moment, her eyes fixed on his, then she took a deep breath and clapped her hands together.“Well,” she announced. “I think it’s time we took a trip down to California for a few days, don’t you, David? We can pack Wilby and the kids into the car and go get a little winter sunshine, what do you say?”Weaver smiled.“Thank you,” he said sincerely, and she smiled and nodded an acknowledgement.“I’ll go pack,” she said, and her eyes flicked to her husband. “Do what you can to stop him getting himself killed, okay?”“Well, that’s what I was trying!” protested Nolan, and she sniffed and tossed her head before ducking back inside.“Without going with him!” she called over her shoulder.“See?” said Weaver, and Nolan grumbled.“Fine,” he said. “At least take Fa with you.”“No, I already told you…”“Yeah, and your reasons are bullshit! She’ll kill you if you go off on your own like this!”“For the last time, no!” Weaver shook his head, tucking his shirt into his jeans. “Look, I’d better go. I have an idea where I might catch this piece of shit.”“You’re going now?”“No time like the present.” He took a final look at the whiteboard. “I’ll make a few calls, say goodbye to Tilly, and I’m out of here. I’ll call you just as soon as I have news.”“Be careful, would you?” said Nolan. “Try to at least think for three seconds before you go charging in somewhere.”“Oh, I’ll be careful,” said Weaver grimly. “I got something to live for.”Nolan went in to watch over the children while Snow packed and Weaver made a series of calls to his network of young informants, seeking info on any sightings of Arthur Penn. After hugging Tilly goodbye, and assuring her that he would be back just as soon as he’d taken care of some bad people, Weaver drove back to his apartment to pick up his gun, cuffs and badge. He took an extra clip, slipped into the inside pocket of his jacket, and after a moment, dug out a knife in its sheath and strapped it to his lower leg, beneath his jeans. It paid to be prepared, after all.He glanced in the mirror as he strode into the hall. A grim expression seemed to be permanently etched on his face these days, his eyes darkened by worry. He scowled at himself. One way or another, he’d get to the bottom of this. One way or another, he’d save his family.A knock at the door made him start, and his scowl grew. Whoever was calling, he wasn’t fucking interested. He wrenched open the door, mouth opened to release a tide of profanity, and the words caught in his throat as Detective Fa and Officer Dunbroch shoved him aside, kicking the door shut behind them.“Where d’you think you’re going?” demanded Merida, hands on hips as she shook back her hair.“Mind your own business!” he growled. “Can’t a man have a fucking day off work without the world’s most annoying lesbians butting in?”“Apparently not,” said Fa dryly, dark ponytail swinging. “Seems that the world’s most annoying lesbians really care about the world’s most fucking stupid asshole detective with a death wish. I’m afraid you’re stuck with us.”“Well, you can bugger off, I’m busy,” he spat.“Yeah, we know,” said Merida, with a snort. “That’s why we’re here.”“I don’t want—”“Nolan ratted you out,” interrupted Fa.
“Good thing, too. I see you haven’t totally lost that reckless streak. Shit like that’ll get you killed.”Weaver let his head roll back with a groan, and ran his hands over his face. When he took them away again, Fa and Merida were watching him with identical stern expressions.“I didn’t want to drag you into something personal—” he began.“You’re a bloody idiot,” said Merida bluntly.
“Do you seriously think we’d let you bugger off and have an adventure without us?”“This is not a fucking adventure!” he snapped. “These are dangerous people and there’s a serious risk I could get killed!”“All the more reason for us to tag along and drag your skinny ass out of the fire, then,” said Fa. “Now stop fucking whining, and tell us how we can help.”Weaver growled impatiently, tapping a foot in irritation. Come on, you idiot, you need them! “Alright, fine,” he said, in resignation. “Here’s what I need you to do.”Half an hour later, the three of them were pressed against the wall in the alleyway outside The Rabbit Hole, waiting for their quarry. Arthur Penn had been spotted drinking in the bar by one of Weaver’s street kids when she had stopped to pick up a small drugs package for delivery, and she had informed Weaver as soon as she left. He had just finished explaining Lacey’s situation to Fa and Merida when he got the call, and while they had muttered darkly about him keeping it to himself for as long as he had, they had made some sensible suggestions. Their presence also made him feel a little more positive he’d come out of this alive. Assuming their target ever left the fucking bar, of course.“Try not to let him see your faces,” said Weaver. “Let’s play this as though we’re part of his world. I don’t want him tipping off these fucking Fairies that the cops are onto them.”“So glad you told us that, we’d never have thought of it otherwise,” said Fa dryly.“He staying in there all night, you think?” whispered Merida.“The longer he’s in there, the better for us,” said Fa. “A drunk guy’s easier to knock on his ass.”“Less easy to get any sense out of, though,” said Weaver. “But you’re right, it’s better for us. If he’s drinking heavily, that means he’s not on call for either of the Fairies. Which means they’re out of town and unlikely to be expecting him to make contact.”“Which also means they won’t notice if he disappears, right?” said Fa dryly.“Right.” He hesitated. “Look, I know you didn’t sign up for that. I’m not expecting either of you to do anything illegal or—”“Would you shut the hell up?” she said, not unkindly. “We’re in this together. Quiet, I think I hear someone.”They pressed back, Weaver’s palms scraping against the cold bricks, still damp with rain. The door squeaked open, and Arthur Penn stumbled out into the alleyway, belching loudly and staggering two steps before fumbling at his zipper and leaning against the opposite wall. The splash of urine sounded, and Fa caught Weaver’s eye and nodded. Silent as a cat, she drew her gun and slipped up behind the man, pressing the muzzle to the base of his skull.“Don’t move,” she whispered.The man reacted quicker than Weaver had thought possible, elbow flying out behind him, but Fa was quicker. She ducked under the blow, punching him hard enough in the lower back to make him groan and twisting his arm up behind him as she shoved his face into the wall. Merida took the other side, and the two of them hauled him further along the alley, out of sight of the door. It was dark this far from the streetlights, and Weaver was counting on that to keep their faces hidden from view.“Get your fucking hands off me!” bellowed Penn.“Shut it!” snapped Weaver. “Search him.”Merida went through his pockets quickly, pulling out a phone which she passed to Fa, a gun, and a large knife, both of which she tossed to Weaver. He stuck the gun in his inside pocket and glanced at Fa, who was flicking at the phone with a thumb. A press of Penn’s finger against the screen unlocked it, and Fa began looking through it with one hand, the other still holding a gun to the man’s side. Weaver took a handful of Penn’s hair and twisted. There was some sort of product on it, oily against his fingers, and he leaned in close, so that he could hear the man’s ragged breathing and smell the sour stench of alcohol and fear.“Who do you work for?” he asked pleasantly.“Fuck you!”“Wrong answer.”Weaver punched him in the kidneys, and Penn let out a choking cry.“Look, I’m freelance, okay?” he wheezed. “I’m not working for anyone! Why, you - you want something doing? Someone taking out? I’m your man, if the price is right. Buys my silence, you know?”“Well, that’s unfortunate,” said Weaver. “I was actually hoping you’d spill your guts. Or we could do it in the more literal sense.”He unsheathed the knife with a satisfying whisper of steel against leather, and pressed the tip of the blade against Penn’s belly, just above his belt. Penn sucked in a breath, his body freezing in place.“Hey look, I’m - I’m sure we can come to some arrangement here!” he said, his voice grown high with panic. “Prices are - are open to negotiation! Or - or if it’s info you want, just ask!”“Alright,” said Weaver softly. “What do you know about the Black Fairy? And the Blue Fairy?”Silence, but for the sound of ragged, terrified breathing. Weaver pressed the point in a little harder, and Penn let out a strangled noise.“Alright, alright!” he said desperately. “Look, I don’t know much, okay? Up from Vegas, but not wanting to muscle in on anyone’s scene here, so you can take that back to whichever boss you work for! They’re not a threat to anyone’s profit line, okay, and - and neither am I! They just wanted to clear up a little family business!”“Go on,” said Weaver lazily.“There’s a girl, a - a young woman calling herself Lacey Weaver, only - only that’s not her real name! Her real name’s Isabelle. Some sort of family connection. She has something the Fairies want. A - a key to something.”“A key to what?” asked Weaver. “Money? Drugs?”“I don’t know, honestly! I know she had to get it from a police station, but that's all I know! Could be either!”
“So what about this Lacey, then?” asked Weaver. “What’s your dealings with her?”“I’m - I’m done with that, I swear!” he stammered. “I had to keep an eye on her, to let her know when she had to meet them, to keep tabs on her progress. Her husband’s a cop, so we had to be careful, but - but it looks like they broke up. Guess it never would have worked, I mean you should have seen her...”Weaver tightened his grip on Penn’s hair, jaw clenching.“And where is she now?”“Hey.”Fa’s voice made him look around, and he glanced at the phone she was holding up. A message from Lacey, giving what looked like a flight number, along with departure and arrival times. Weaver squinted at it. Boston, not Maine. Interesting. “So,” he said evenly. “Looks like this Lacey’s getting the hell out of town. Any reason for that? Anything going down here that we should know about?”“No, I swear it!” protested Penn. “I - I was asked to call someone in Maine to let them know when she lands in Boston, so they can collect her!”“Who?” demanded Weaver.
“He work for these Fairies too?”“I - I suppose so,” said Penn. “His name's Felix, but I never met the guy, and that's all I know! Whatever business they have, it’s not here!”Weaver leaned in again, making the knife point dig in, and Penn let out a high-pitched cry.“You’d better not be lying to me!” he growled.“It’s the truth, I swear it! I’m - I’m done with the Fairies, and - and as far as I know they’re done with Seattle!”Weaver nodded grimly, and took a step back, nodding to Fa, who used the butt of her gun to strike a hard blow on the back of Penn’s head. He slumped bonelessly to the ground, and the three glanced around to check they were still undisturbed. Weaver jerked his head towards the mouth of the alleyway.“We should get out of here,” he said.“Just a second.”Fa squatted down next to Penn’s prone body, using his fingertip to open up the phone again. She tossed it to Weaver.“Here, change it to a PIN,” she said. “Just in case they decide to get in touch with our boy.”“Good thinking,” he said, and Merida grinned.“My girlfriend’s fucking brilliant,” she said proudly, and Fa dropped her eyes with a self-conscious smile.Weaver quickly changed the security settings on the phone to a PIN unlock. He chose Tilly’s birthday for the code, hoping it would be a good luck charm of sorts. The alleyway around them was still quiet, and he nodded to the others.“Let’s get out of here,” he said. “Looks like I have to catch a flight to Boston.”“We have to catch a flight to Boston,” corrected Fa, and he sighed.“No canoodling on the plane,” he growled.“I don’t remember agreeing to that,” said Merida, and grasped Fa’s hand as they made their way back to Weaver’s apartment.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Detectives Weaver and Fa, and Officer Dunbroch, took the first flight out that they could get, snatching what sleep they could during the trip. They landed on Friday morning, collecting the hire car that Weaver had booked and then grabbing a quick bite to eat while they planned their next move in solving the mystery that was Lacey.“Her plane lands just after three,” said Fa, stirring her coffee. “If she’s meeting someone, we should check out the arrivals. We’ll need to be ready to follow them.”“Any idea what she’s here for?” asked Merida, and Weaver shook his head, dipping a few fries into his ketchup.“The only lead I have is that she has a tiny key that she stole from me, and a code,” he said. “No idea what the code is for, but the key means she needs a safe deposit box. Which means a bank.”He shoved the fries in his mouth, chewing.“Doesn’t exactly narrow it down,” said Merida. “Probably means we’ll be in the centre of the city, though.”“Don’t suppose she has any sort of tracker on her phone?” asked Fa, and Weaver shook his head again.“We should split up in case we lose her,” said Fa, putting a hand on Merida's knee. “And don’t take this the wrong way, babe, but you kind of stand out.”Merida shook her red curls, pulling a face.“I can be inconspicuous when I want to!”“You can’t even spell inconspicuous,” said Weaver bluntly. “You can wait in the hire car. Fa and I will scope out the airport.”“Oh, and you think your wife will just breeze on past you without noticing?” demanded Merida. “Don’t be fucking stupid!”“Both of you can hang back and keep your damn faces hidden as much as you can,” said Fa, in a tone that meant she had made up her mind. “I’ll follow Lacey. If I can get close enough, I’ll try to plant a tracker on her.”“Don’t risk blowing the whole thing,” warned Weaver.“Come on, I’m not a rookie,” she said, giving him a flat look. “If I can’t do it without her getting suspicious, then I won’t bother.”“There won’t be much of a window in which to reach her,” said Merida. “What’s the plan if you can’t place the tracker?”“If someone’s meeting her, they’ll need transport, which either means a cab or a car,” said Fa. “If we split ourselves between the hire car and the cabs we should be okay. Weaver can take the hire car, we’ll follow her in a cab. We’ll stay in touch, meet up wherever she goes.”“Sounds good,” said Weaver. “I asked her to call me when her plane landed. We’ll see what she has to say for herself then.”“You think she’ll call?” asked Merida, stealing some of his fries.“Oh yes,” he said dryly. “She’ll want to keep up the subterfuge as long as possible, believe me. I’m gonna let her think she’s got me fooled.”Lacey had slept poorly, worried about what lay ahead, and missing both Weaver and Tilly. She was thankful that she had caught the earliest flight possible, as it meant she could stop staring at the ceiling and at least keep busy with getting to the airport and boarding the plane. She managed to snooze a little on the flight over, but felt her heart sink as it came in to land. Whatever secrets Fiona wanted her to retrieve, they would be found in Boston.She looked through her bag, finding her tickets, a passport and driving licence in the name of Isabelle French, and the deposit box key she had taken from Weaver. She was still unsure on the pass code she had taken pictures of. Neither Fiona nor Azurine had mentioned the code, and so she hadn’t either, holding onto a faint hope that there was still a piece of this puzzle they weren’t aware of.As she hit the arrivals lounge, she pulled out her phone, wondering if she would catch Weaver. He answered on the third ring, his tone light.“Hey,” he said. “How’s Vegas?”“Just as dusty and overrun with gamblers as I remember,” she said, wincing as she lied to him yet again. “How’s Tilly?”“Yeah, she’s fine,” he said. “Nolan suggested that we take a trip down the coast this weekend.”“Oh.” She chewed her lip. “Oh. Well, good. You guys have fun.”“She can tell you all about it when you get back,” he added. “Any idea when that’ll be? If you send me your flight number I can pick you up.”“Uh - yeah, sure.” Guilt ran spectral fingers over her skin and twisted in her hair. “I’ll - I’ll call you.”“Okay.”A pause, in which she heard what sounded like a sigh. When he spoke again, his voice was more gentle. More desperate.“Take care, Lacey,” he said. “We both love you, never forget that. Take care, and come home.”She squeezed her eyes shut, swallowing past the lump in her throat.“Bye,” she whispered, and hung up.She slipped the phone into her bag and ran her hands over her face, breathing hard to calm herself. At least they were safe. They were together, and they were safe. That was all that mattered. She dropped her hands, blinking rapidly to clear her eyes of the tears that still threatened to fall, and raised her chin. Time to move.The arrivals lounge was busy, but she had only brought a small carry-on case on wheels, and so she was able to get through it quickly. She had been told to watch out for someone waiting for her, and sure enough, in amongst the cab drivers holding up signs with names scrawled on, was a tall young man with blonde hair and a secretive smile, a sign in his hands reading Schwartz. Lacey took a breath, stomping over to him.“Guess you’re my ride, huh?” she said. “Where are we headed?”“Longbourn Chartered Bank,” he said, in a lazy drawl. “Pleased to meet you, Ms Schwartz. I’m Felix, your chauffeur.”“Let’s just get this over with,” she snapped. “I’m not looking for a guided tour of the damn city!”He smirked and turned away, heading off towards the car park. Lacey followed, dragging her little case, and a short young woman with a heavy coat and a cap pulled down over her eyes barged into her, almost sending her flying.“Sorry,” she muttered, not looking back, and Lacey glared after her, watching her dark ponytail swinging as she headed for the cafeteria.“We’re on a schedule here, ma’am,” said Felix, and Lacey scowled at him.“Yeah, okay, I’m coming! That bitch almost ran me down!”She picked up the pace, and he led her swiftly from the terminal and into the car park. A sleek Mercedes waited, shining black panels edged with chrome, and Lacey put her case in the trunk and got into the rear seat, tossing her bag aside and putting on her belt. The sooner this was over the better.It didn’t take long to get to the bank, and Felix pulled up outside, opening the door to let her out.“I guess I’ll meet you back here,” she said, but he shook his head.“I’m coming in with you,” he said.“I’m not about to make a run for it, am I?” she snapped.“Orders are orders, Ms Schwartz.”Lacey rolled her eyes.“Fine,” she sighed. “Just stay out of the way. I’m not in the mood for this crap.”She breezed past him, trotting up the steps of the bank and into the main lobby. It was pleasantly warm after the biting wind outside, despite the high ceiling. The floor was tiled in polished cream and black, and her heels rang on the tiles as she approached one of the gleaming wooden desks. A pretty young woman in a crisp dark blue suit greeted her with a smile.“I have a deposit box here,” said Lacey, hoping it was true. “I need to access it.”“Of course,” chirped the woman. “We’ll need your I.D. Do you have your key?”“Yeah.”
Lacey dug in her bag for the padded envelope she had containing the key and her identification. Glancing over her shoulder, she could see Felix hovering a pace or two back. The bank clerk was tapping away at her computer, and she looked up with a smile.“That’s fine, Ms Schwartz,” she said. “If you’d like to follow me?”She led Lacey to a door secured by an electronic keypad, and tapped in a code with flickering fingers. Felix had joined them, and the clerk glanced at him as she turned the handle.“I’m afraid it’s key holders only past this point, sir,” she said.Lacey felt like sticking her tongue out at him, but kept her face impassive, and he muttered that he would wait for her to come back out. She followed the clerk along a narrow corridor with thick carpet that softened their footsteps. Another door, another code, and she was let into a room with a single table and chair, and rows of small numbered boxes stacked two metres high. The clerk ran her eyes around the room, then walked swiftly to a box numbered 219 and put her key into one of the two locks there, turning it with a click. Drawing the box out of its slot, she placed it on the table in front of Lacey.“It’s ready for you to use your own key,” she said. “Just knock on the door when you want me to let you out.”She left, closing and locking the door behind her, and Lacey eyed the deposit box nervously. Staring at it wouldn’t help her get out of the situation she was in, and so she inserted her own key, turning it in the lock and hearing a click. She opened up the lid, pursing her lips at the contents. There was a portable hard drive, one of the old ones from years ago that would fit on a tiny flash drive these days. She lifted it out and set it aside. That was what Fiona had asked her to get. Underneath it was a letter, a thick cream envelope with her old name written on the front. Isabelle.Licking her lips, she picked up the letter, slitting it open with a thumbnail and pulling out a sheet of paper that had been carefully folded into thirds. She opened it up, eyes scanning the page. ‘My dear Isabelle’, it said. ‘I’m writing this to you now in the hope that you will find it before any of the others. I know what’s happening to me. I know what the future holds on that front, and so I wanted to reach out while I still can. I have asked Mr Heller to track you down, and if you are reading this, he must have done so. He is a good man at heart, seeking to carry on the work of his late wife, and as soon as he finds you, I will be sending him the means to help you, and thereby help him to protect her legacy.
Perhaps my dearest wish will come true, and Mr Heller will bring you to me while I can still move and think and speak. Or perhaps this is all in vain, who can say? All I know is that I have to try to make it right. I’m sorry for the family your mother was born into, the family that I was a part of. I’m sorry about the man she married, the man your grandfather treated as his own son, as his heir to this great fortune built on misery and suffering. I’m sorry for everything you had to witness, for everything that happened to you. I’m sorry that I was too weak to stop it.

I’m more happy than you know that you were able to get away from that life, and I hope you can go on to find your own path and put this terrible past behind you. Your stepmother smiles and speaks of you fondly, as though she misses you, but I know you were fooled by her no more than I was. She will want what I have left for you in this box. I leave the decision on what to do with the contents to you.

The true prize is in my private safe, in the library at home. Look in the alcove behind the statue you always liked. You’ll find the safe there. Inside is all the evidence that your mother collected over the years when she was a doting wife, but could not find the strength to use. Evidence against your father and his businesses
. Evidence against your stepmother. Perhaps it will be enough to let you be free of them. There must still be some good people left in the world, some officials yet to be corrupted by greed and self-interest. Alas, I never met one.

I offer you this evidence, dear Isabelle, in the hope that it will never be needed. In the hope that you will live your life happily without them ever finding you. If they do, though, perhaps this will give you something to use against them. I realise that I am trying to ease my own conscience as much as help you, but we must all find our courage where we can. God knows I have little enough of that.

Take care, dearest girl, and be assured that I wish you every happiness. Your loving Grandma.’
Lacey lowered the letter, chewing her lip as she blinked away a tear or two. Her grandmother had been the one person who had been a comforting presence, but she had not realised until that moment how trapped and helpless she had felt.“Find your courage where you can,” she said quietly. “Guess I’ll have to try, huh? Do the brave thing?”She dropped the letter back into the box, not wanting to take it with her when Felix was waiting outside. Slipping the hard drive into her bag, she locked up the box and left it on the table, rapping on the door for the bank clerk to let her out.As she had suspected, Felix demanded that she hand over her bag as soon as they were outside. A cab had pulled into the space in front of them, two women on the back seat leaning in to hold one another. One of the women had very red hair, pulled into a tight bun that was coming loose, her face hidden as they hugged fiercely. Lacey waited with a bored expression on her face as Felix searched through the bag, pulling out the hard drive and opening every pocket.“Is that it?” he asked.“That’s it,” she confirmed.“Okay,” he said. “Then I guess we head to Vegas.”“I’m going to Storybrooke,” she said firmly, and he frowned.“My orders are—”“I don’t give a flying fuck about your orders!” snapped Lacey. “My grandmother is dying, okay? I’m going to see her, and I don’t care what you say about it. You can hold onto what I took from her deposit box - hell, you can take it to Vegas yourself, if you like. But I’m going to Storybrooke, got it? If you won’t take me, I’ll get on a damn bus!”She stomped around to the trunk of the car to retrieve her case, and he growled something under his breath.“Fine, get in,” he sighed. “I guess a day or so wouldn’t hurt.”She sniffed, snatched her bag from him, and got into the back of the Mercedes again. The cab ahead was still parked up. Clearly the two women were taking their time saying goodbye. Good for them. Felix pulled away, heading north, and Lacey shrugged out of her coat and settled back on the seat with a sigh. Around four hours to get to Storybrooke. Perhaps she could even get some sleep.Some way behind her, Weaver was following in the hire car. He nodded grimly as the Mercedes followed the signs to I-95, and glanced at his phone seated in its cradle on the dashboard. A few flicks of his fingers called Merida.“Looks like we’re heading north,” he said. “Where are you?”“We’re about four cars back from you,” she said. “Stay out of sight.”“Understood.” He frowned, keeping an eye on the traffic in front of him. “I think I know where they’re going. The cab fare is gonna be a fucking fortune.”“Then you’d better be prepared to get your wallet out, hadn’t you?” she said. “First time for everything.”“Bloody cheek!” he said, as she chortled. “Did Fa manage to put the tracker on her?”“Coat pocket,” said Merida. “She still has it. Why don’t you pull over and we’ll get in your car? Not like you don’t know where she’s going, right?”“Alright. Next place I can stop.”He rang off, glancing in his mirror before pulling over. The cab pulled in behind him, and he waited impatiently, fingers tapping on the wheel as Fa paid the driver and she and Merida hurried to his car. They piled into the back seat, a little breathless.“Where are we going?” asked Merida, as he pulled away again.“Maine,” he said. "Should take us four hours or so. Look for Storybrooke on your phone, let me know where we're heading when we get a little nearer."“No problem.”Weaver increased his speed, overtaking the vehicle in front as he tried to catch Lacey, no easy feat in the heavy traffic. The Mercedes was easy to spot, but he kept half a dozen cars in between them and shifted in his seat, getting ready for a long drive. It seemed that Lacey was going home.It was after nine in the evening when they reached Storybrooke, a small town nestled on the coast of Maine. Weaver’s eyes were grainy from lack of sleep and intense concentration, and he followed the Mercedes through the town, keeping well back. It turned off up a quiet road lined with trees, and he slowed his pace as Fa and Merida studied the map on Fa's phone.“Pull over,” said Fa. “That road’s a dead end. There’s only one place they could be going, and it’s gonna be pretty obvious if you follow.”“What’s at the end of the road?” he asked.“Avonlea Manor,” she said. “Kill the lights. We’ll wait here, see if they come back out.”“The tracker?”
“Still ahead of us.”He turned off the lights, rubbing tired eyes and sighing.“There was an inn back in the town,” said Merida. “We could get a room for the night. Maybe some food. Definitely a drink or three.”“Just as soon as we know what the hell’s going on, yes.” He peered through his fingers at the road ahead. “Fuck it, I’m going up there.”“You are not,” said Fa immediately. “Just wait. I didn't come all this way to haul your impulsive ass out of whatever fire you want to jump into.”He growled under his breath, but nodded. Time seemed to crawl. The night was black as pitch around them, and he tapped on the steering wheel, itching to drive to wherever Lacey was and kill whoever threatened her.“Stay where you are,” said Fa, seeming to read his mind, and he rolled his eyes.“For all I know she’s buggered off somewhere else!” he snapped.“No, she’s still there,” she said. “She’s - wait, she’s coming this way. Get down!”Headlights appeared around a bend in the road, and Weaver ducked his head. He heard a car pass, and looked up again, red tail lights visible in the rear view mirror.“Only one person in the car, but the tracker was in there,” said Fa. “Perhaps she left her coat on the back seat.”“Perhaps she was in the trunk,” said Merida ominously, making Weaver swallow hard.“Right, I’m going up to that manor house to take a look around,” he said, starting the engine. “You two follow that car once I’m gone, got it?”
They argued, as he had known they would, but eventually agreed. Weaver followed the road around a sweeping bend, the woods opening out to reveal a large, sprawling mansion of red brick, large gardens beyond spreading out towards thick woods. The house was oddly dark and silent, lights on in only a few rooms, and Weaver stopped the car, getting out and checking his weapons. Fa took his place in the driver’s seat.“Call us,” she said bluntly. “When we're done tracking the car, we'll be at that inn we passed. If you need help, just fucking call, okay? And don’t get your ass shot.”“Yeah, you too.”They drove off, and Weaver followed the road around to the rear of the house, moving quietly and hugging the red brick wall. There seemed to be no security to speak of, and he wondered at this large house in the middle of nowhere, and the secrets it might contain. Was Lacey inside?He reached a door, and opened it quietly, slipping inside and closing it behind him. Warmth flooded over him, and he glanced around, taking in the empty room with its heavy range and gleaming steel pans. He appeared to have found the kitchens. A teapot sat on a heavy pine table, white glazed pottery with a chip in the rim of the lid. The teapot was steaming, a cup and saucer next to it, and Weaver figured that whoever the tea was for had to be around somewhere. He slipped across the room, heading for the door that led into the main house. A dark corridor opened up before him, a set of stairs at the end, and he flexed his fingers, focusing his energy on the door at the top. Perhaps Lacey was beyond. Perhaps he would finally get some answers.“Hands in the air!” A stern voice made him freeze. “Hands in the air or I’ll shoot!”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Weaver swore under his breath. His captor sounded like a woman, but he knew better than to think she wouldn’t be a threat. Great. Right at the end, they catch me. Fucking typical. “Hands in the air!” the woman snapped. “I won’t tell you again!”“How do I know you’re armed?” he asked calmly.“Well, I’d poke you between the shoulder blades, but this shotgun’s a tricky piece,” she said bluntly. “Wouldn’t want to kill you without meaning to. Come on, get them up.”Weaver sighed, raising his hands and folding his fingers around the back of his head. He heard a satisfied sniff from the woman.“What are you doing sneaking around down here?” she demanded. “I don’t know you, do I? Did you come with Felix? I thought I spied his sly little face earlier, driving that Mercedes like he thinks he owns the place!”Weaver decided that whoever she was, she didn’t like the man who had driven Lacey there, which was a point in her favour, in his opinion.“Come on, out with it!” she snapped. “If you don’t start talking, I’ll call the police!”That settled it. She wasn’t with them.“I am the police,” he said patiently. “Detective Weaver, Seattle P.D.”“Don’t try to trick me!” said the woman suspiciously. “Seattle’s the other side of the country, you’ve got no business here!”“I can show you my badge, if you let me,” he said. “Can I take it out?”“Slowly!” she ordered. “Any funny business and I’ll shoot you!”“Yes, ma’am.”Weaver slowly lowered one hand and reached for his badge, bending his arm behind him to show her. A swift hand snatched at it.“So,” she said, after a moment. “Detective Weaver, hmm? What brings you all the way across from the West Coast? Can’t be police business.”“No,” he agreed. “I’m here to see Lacey.”“No one here by that name.”“You might know her as Isabelle Schwartz,” he said. “I’ve only ever known her as Lacey. First Lacey French, and then Lacey Weaver. She’s my wife.”There was a sharp intake of breath from her.“You’re him,” she said quietly. “You’re the father.”
So, she knows about Tilly, then.
“I am,” he said. “Can I turn around?”“Do it slowly.”Weaver let his hands down carefully, turning on the balls of his feet to come face to face with a short, stout old woman with grey hair in a neat bun and a fierce expression on her face. She was holding a cast iron frying pan in her hand, and he raised an eyebrow.“Shotgun, hmm?”“I grabbed the first thing I could see,” she said matter-of-factly, and tossed his badge to him. “Now, explain yourself. Why didn’t you come with Miss Belle?”“Lacey - Belle - is in trouble,” he said quietly. “She’s mixed up with some terrible people. I suspect you know them.”The woman sniffed, mouth twisting.“Her family on her father’s side,” she said. “He always was a nasty piece of work. Oh, not that old Mr d’Avonlea was any better, mind you, but he did at least have manners. And then Maurice married that grasping harpy Fiona after Miss Collette died, and things went from bad to worse...”
So, is she here willingly or not? Is the family her ticket to a better life? Plenty money here, that’s clear. Is that what she wants? Why she’s leaving us?
“I’d be interested in hearing the family history,” he said truthfully. “But first I need to see my wife. Can you tell me where she is?”The woman pointed upwards.“Said she was going to bed after she’d seen her grandmother. I thought it was early for her, but I figured she was tired from the journey. Second floor, take a right at the top of the stairs. If she's not there, she'll be in the library. First floor, right at the bottom of the stairs and through the double doors.”“Anyone else in the house?” he asked.“Cogsworth, but he’s already in bed. Not feeling so well.” She eyed him curiously. “Are you hungry? I could make you some supper.”Weaver smiled at that. She seemed a motherly sort, and he supposed that at least Lacey would have had the comfort of her presence in this world filled with danger.“I’ll see if she’s hungry,” he said. “I have a feeling the two of us need a long conversation.”“Well, in that case, I’ll make up some sandwiches, and you can eat them when you’re ready,” she said, nodding briskly, and Weaver’s smile grew.“Thank you, Miss..?”“Mrs Potts,” she said, and beamed at him. “Pleased to meet you at last, dear.”Lacey found that little had changed since she had last visited, other than the large house feeling even emptier, her grandmother’s slow decline almost complete. Marie was gaunt and pale, her eyelids thin and purplish, her cheeks hollow. She was still alive, still hooked up to machines that beeped and pulsed, but she didn’t respond when Lacey sat by her side and took her hand. Perhaps she slept too deeply now. Perhaps she would wake in time for Lacey to say goodbye.Feeling despondent, she left the bedroom, heading for the library and what she hoped would be a weapon to use against the rest of her family. Or at the very least, something she could defend her own with. Felix had taken the hard drive with him, but she didn’t care about that. Let them have it, if it kept Weaver and Tilly safe. She needed something more. She needed to become the person her husband thought she was. A good person. A strong person, who did the right thing. Who wasn’t defined by her past, however dark and tragic it might have been.She had always wanted to be the sort of woman her daughter could look up to, or at least one that she wouldn’t be ashamed of. Perhaps it was too late now, but she could try. She was unlikely to come out of it alive if she failed, but perhaps she would think it worth the sacrifice. Weaver would take care of Tilly, if anything happened to her. He was a good father. A good man.The library was dark, and she turned on one of the lamps, a pool of warm light spilling across the polished wooden floor. Lacey crossed quickly to the alcove where an alabaster statue sat on a marble plinth, a stylised Siamese cat with a triangular head and a long, somewhat serpentine body, sitting up and gazing out with large eyes. Lacey took a peek behind it, removing books from one of the shelves and stacking them on the floor. There was nothing behind but the dark wood of the bookcase, and she moved down a shelf, pulling books off it and piling them up. Sure enough, a small safe was revealed, a long panel of dark glass on the front.Beneath it, fitting snugly in a thin slot, was a small, flat keyboard. Lacey hooked a nail underneath it and pulled it out, setting it onto the empty shelf ready to type. Lacey hesitated, then pressed return and dug in her pocket for her phone, bouncing nervously on her toes as she waited. A single, flashing white cursor appeared on the panel of glass on the front of the safe, waiting for her to type.Lacey hurriedly looked through her photo gallery, thumb flicking through the pictures she had taken in Weaver’s office. The thick cream paper with a single sentence. The price is paid. She wondered what the price had been paid for, what the sender had received in exchange, but realised it didn’t matter. All that mattered was that she had the outcome in front of her, the answer to the question being asked by that flashing white line.She pulled up the photo of the code, written on the green sticky note with its corner curling up. Glancing up at the cursor, she started to type. At the first letter - a lowercase r - an asterisk appeared on the screen, and Lacey felt a quick grin curve the sides of her mouth. It was working, then. Not that she had doubted herself, but still... She continued with the password, thumb and finger flickering over the screen to switch between upper and lowercase, letters and numbers. At last it was done, and she sent up a brief prayer before pressing enter. The password disappeared, and the asterisks on the safe flashed once before the screen went black again.Nothing happened.Lacey frowned, looking from the safe to the photograph of the code. Perhaps she had misread something. Perhaps that ‘1’ was really an ‘I’. She tried again, making doubly sure every element was correct before pressing enter.Still nothing.Heart thumping, she chewed her lip, looking back to the photograph of the sticky note. Okay, so maybe the ‘1’ really was a ‘1’, but she’d entered something else wrong. She typed it out again, checking after every letter.Nothing.Lacey shook her head, panic making her skin tingle. It has to work, it has to work, it has to work! I can't go up against them with nothing, I just can't!
She tried again, her hands starting to shake, and let out a whimper as the asterisks flashed and disappeared.“It won’t work.”The sound of his voice made her jump, and she straightened up, the dull click of footsteps echoing around the room as Weaver entered. Her heart was thumping high in her chest, and he stopped some way out, hands clasped behind his back and eyes filled with resignation. With sadness. Lacey felt her heart sink, and she licked her lips, her throat suddenly dry.“How did you—”“Find you?” he asked. “I followed you, of course. With a little help. Caught me by surprise when you went to Boston, but I got here in the end.”“You followed me to Maine?”“Do you seriously think I wouldn’t follow you anywhere?” he said coldly. “Good thing you like to do things alone, isn’t it? I watched the guy you came with drive back into the town, so I knew you’d be here for a little while. I thought you and I should have a conversation without any pesky little interruptions.”She closed her eyes for a moment, then looked at her phone and back at the safe as though it would, by some miracle, spring open.“It won’t work,” he repeated. “Password’s bollocks. I know, because I wrote it.”Lacey’s eyes flicked to the photo on her phone, the green sticky note with its corner curling up, and her heart sank.“You altered the code,” she whispered.“Figured if it was important enough for all this lying and stealing, I should get involved,” he said coolly. “Interesting that we seem to have come full circle here, isn’t it? Just fascinating.”Lacey was silent, guilt and fear burning and bubbling within her, warring for her attention.“I’d like to say that it was coincidence that the thing that brought us together appears to have torn us apart,” he went on. “But you know I don’t believe in coincidences. I’m just curious to know why you ever handed it over to me in the first place. Didn’t have all the pieces then? Or was it just that you didn’t realise what you had?”She shook her head numbly, her vision blurring as tears welled in her eyes.“I suppose at least I understand why you left that night, now,” he added. “Didn’t intend to sleep with me, did you? Tilly must have been a hell of a shock, but I’ll give you your due, you made the best of it. Had me convinced, anyway. And her.”She closed her eyes, wanting to break down and throw herself into his arms. Wanting so, so badly for him to hold her and tell her everything was going to be fine. She didn’t deserve it, but she wanted it anyway.
“Did you just adapt the original plan, or what?” he went on. “Whatever that was. Not sure it matters now, but you know me. I’m a sucker for solving mysteries. A sucker in general, it seems. Is that what you were counting on?”Lacey’s mouth twisted, two tears tracking down her cheeks. Why did he have to follow me? Why couldn’t he just let me go?
“So you knew the code was a password,” he said. “You said that at the time, of course. Was it the location of the safe you didn’t know? Was that the missing piece?”“It’s not what you think,” she said, her voice thick and liquid.“What I think,” he said coldly. “What I think is that you’ve been lying to me for years.”“There are no lies in silence.”“There’s no honesty, either,” he countered. “Who are you, really? I married Lacey French. Does she even exist?”“Yes,” she whispered.“I mean outside of the fake identity you’ve no doubt been using for years.”She hung her head, and there was terrible, awful silence. He began to pace back and forth, the sound of his heavy boots muffled by the thick rug.“I found some interesting things when I was digging around trying to get to the bottom of why my lovely wife had turned against me so suddenly,” he said. “Came across a family in Nevada. First-generation immigrants by the name of Schwartz. Two parents and their daughter.” He raised a hand, forefinger pointing at her. “But of course I told myself it couldn’t be you, because that’s not your name.”“I—”“And of course when I asked you about Fiona Schwartz you said you had no idea who she was,” he went on. “But then I suppose if I asked them about Lacey French they wouldn’t recognise her, would they? There was no Lacey in that family. But there was a young girl called Isabelle. Been missing for some ten years or more. Rumoured to be dead.”“She is dead,” whispered Lacey, wiping away a tear.“So many breadcrumb trails leading me to Vegas,” he said. “Even you, and that so-called funeral. Did anyone in your family actually die, or was that another lie to throw on top of the pile of shit you’ve been selling me all this time?”Lacey didn’t answer, and his pacing increased, his eyes flashing.“I knew you were lying, of course,” he added. “I’ve known for some time, I just didn’t know what it was about. I thought maybe you were scared, that you thought you couldn’t tell me because you were worried about what I’d do. And all along it’s some sort of inside safe-cracking job?”Her lower lip trembled, and she caught it with her teeth to hold it steady.“Where’s Tilly?” she asked.“She’s safe,” he said coldly. “I told her you’d be back soon. Of course I didn’t know at the time you were on a mission to steal from your grandmother. Clearly family isn’t all that important to you.”“Don’t say that!” she pleaded. “You two are everything to me!”“Oh, don’t give me that bollocks!” he snapped. “You can drop the fucking act, Isabelle. Just be fucking honest with me for once, will you?”She let out a sob, dashing tears from her eyes. He couldn’t stand to see her cry, and when they had fought in the past he would always be the first to stop shouting at the sight of her tears. His face would soften, his eyes would lose their dark fire, and he would take her in his arms and hold her tight, speaking soft words to her as she wept. She wanted him to do it now, but he was glaring and hostile, pacing the floor, cold and distant and out of reach.“I always thought there was a reason you didn’t want to hear me say I love you,” he went on. “I just never thought it was fucking guilt over playing me all this fucking time.”“I do love you!”Lacey’s eyes were wide with shock at blurting out the phrase she had kept bottled up for all the time they had been together. Her lower lip was trembling, the unfamiliar words having fallen from her lips and splattered on the floor between them. She hadn’t expected to find it so easy, so right. It was as though the weight around her heart was easing, and Weaver seemed to rock back on his heels, mouth opening, a look of puzzlement on his face.
“Then - then what the hell has this all been about?” he demanded, gesturing between them. “One minute out of the fucking blue you tell me it isn’t working and you want a fucking divorce, and now this? What the hell were you playing at?”“I thought I was doing the right thing!” she sobbed.“Right for who?” he spat. “Do you have any idea how much it hurt me, hurt Tilly?” “Yes!” she shouted. “You think it didn’t kill me to do it?”“I don’t fucking know!” He threw up his hands. “How could I know when you won’t fucking tell me anything, when you keep on shutting me out? These past few months I’ve felt like I was losing my fucking mind! What the hell was it, Lacey? What’s the fucking reason you’ve been pushing me away?” “They were gonna kill you!” wept Lacey. “They were gonna kill you, and take Tilly. I couldn’t let that happen! I - I had to pretend I didn’t care, to make them think I didn’t want you.”“Who was?” he demanded.
“Who the hell is threatening my family?”“My
family!” She could feel the tears rising up inside her, wanted to spill over.
“The Schwartz family. If you’ve been poking around in the police records, you know damn well who they are.”“Aye, I know!” he snapped. “Fucking mobsters. You think I haven’t dealt with their kind before? It’s what I fucking do, Lacey! It’s my fucking
life!”“You don’t
know
them!”“You think that matters?” he said roughly. “No one threatens my family, you hear me? You think I’m just gonna let them get away with that?”“You can’t fight them!” she said pleadingly.
“They’re too powerful, you’d be killed if you tried! I - I did what I could, okay?”“Why would they threaten me?” He jabbed at his chest. “It’s not as though I have any powers down in Vegas, for fuck’s sake! Why would they care?”“Because that’s what they do!” she said, her voice shaking. “They take the thing you love and use it to control you! They wanted to control me by threatening you, and I couldn’t let that happen, okay? I couldn’t let them destroy you!”He was staring at her, and she could feel words bubbling up out of her.“At first I thought maybe if I did what they wanted, they’d leave me alone, leave us alone,” she went on. “And then - and then it was pretty clear that wasn’t gonna happen, that they wanted me to go back. Back to that - that
life, that terrible life!"She was trembling with shame and fear, her lower lip trembling, her throat hurting."So I pushed you away," she went on. "I pushed you away to keep you safe, and I'm sorry, but I didn't know what else to do! I’d been on the run for so long before I met you. Meeting you was - was the best thing that ever happened to me, Rafe, I swear it! Meeting you let me feel like I was safe, like I was home!”“But you left!”“Because I knew they’d find me!” she shouted. “Why do you think I was on the run in the first place? Why do you think I was on the streets when you met me? I kept moving, changed my name, never settled anywhere. Until you.”Weaver seemed to settle back on his heels a little, letting out a sigh.“Until Tilly,” he said quietly, and she let out another sob, dashing away tears.“I - I knew I had to come back,” she wept. “I didn’t want to leave you, but it was the right thing to do. For both of us. But when I knew I was carrying Tilly, I had to come back. I thought - I thought maybe it had been long enough. Maybe they’d stopped trying to find me. Maybe they thought I was dead.”“You came here,” he said, pointing to the floor beneath his feet. “When you said you’d been in Maine, this is what you meant.”She nodded.“So why not tell me?” he asked, and his voice had lost its harsh edge. “Why not tell me the truth? I know you were scared, but do you really think I can’t handle myself? You think I wouldn’t kill every piece of shit in Vegas if it kept my family safe?”“You don’t know them!”“Oh, I don’t need to,” he said grimly. “They’ll bleed just as well as any other of the scum I’ve put in the ground over the years. You should have trusted me, Lacey. You should have told me.”“I wanted you safe!” she insisted. “Who’d care for Tilly otherwise? I knew whatever happened to me, you'd protect her. You had to be safe!”“We’re safest when we’re together,” he said. “I thought you’d remember that.”“You can’t fight them,” she whimpered. “Not your way. You’ll die.”“Then I’ll find another way,” he said. “I’m a resourceful man, or have you forgotten?”Lacey sobbed, toe scuffing the carpet as she dashed away tears with the heel of her hand, and he stepped forward a little.“Be honest with me,” he said quietly. “Do you want to get divorced?”Lacey shook her head, tears coursing down her cheeks as her lower lip wobbled.“No.”It was a tiny whimper, but it made his face soften, his own lip tremble, and he reached up to cup her cheeks with his hands. Two more tears fell, and he wiped them away with his thumbs. He leaned in to press his lips to her brow, and Lacey’s breath hitched in her chest.“I promise you, whatever they’re threatening you with, it’s not gonna happen,” he said softly. “Just - please. Please. Let me help you.”“You can’t help me!” she sobbed. “I - I told you that years ago, and you didn’t believe me!”Weaver’s mouth twitched in a tiny smile.“You’re right, I didn’t,” he said. “I still don’t. You think you’re not worth it, that you’re not worth anything. But that’s never how I’ve seen you. You’re one of the strongest people I know. You’ve got the biggest heart and the kindest soul, and you’re one of two people I care about more than anything else in the world. You think Tilly thinks her mother is worthless?”Lacey wept, dashing tears from her cheeks, and he kissed her again, soft lips pressing against her cheeks, her eyelids. His brow pressed against hers, and she could feel his cool breath on her lips, his nose nuzzling hers.“I love you, Lacey,” he whispered. “I love you, do you hear me? Whatever’s coming, whatever’s threatening our family, we’ll face it together. Okay?”She nodded, arms going around him as she let herself cry, her chest heaving with sobs. He held her close, his body firm and warm and comforting, his scent wrapping around her as her tears soaked into his shirt. It felt good to be held, to be loved. To know that there was no longer any need for lies. To know that he accepted her with all the risks and the danger that entailed. To know that he loved her anyway.Eventually she ran out of tears, and pulled back from him a little, feeling drained and weak, her throat and eyes stinging. He kissed her again, thumbs brushing wetness from her cheeks, and Lacey hitched a breath as she met his eyes.“Well then,” he said quietly. “I believe Mrs Potts may have left us some sandwiches in the kitchen, if you’re hungry.”She nodded, giving him a wobbly smile.“Starving.”“In that case,” he said. “Let’s open this fucking safe and see what’s inside, then you and I can have something to eat, hmm?”“Mrs Potts always did say that there’s nothing so bad it can’t be solved by a cup of tea,” she said.“Suggestion number one,” he said. “Throw hot tea over whoever’s after you.”Lacey let out something halfway between a giggle and a sob, and he kissed her brow again.“See?” he said. “I’m an evil genius. They don’t stand a chance.”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Lacey drew back reluctantly, leaving the comforting circle of Weaver’s arms, and wiped the tears from her cheeks.
“How did you get here?” she asked, her voice thick with emotion.“Took the plane out before you landed,” he said. “Followed you from the airport. Fa planted a tracker on you.”“Fa - oh, she was the one who bumped into me?” Lacey guessed. “She’s good, I didn’t recognise her. You told her about me?”“I told her you were in trouble. She and Dunbroch wanted to help.”She nodded, feeling a surge of gratitude.“Where are they now?”“They followed the guy that dropped you here. I should really call, see how they are.”“Felix won’t go far,” she said. “He’ll stay in town, I reckon. Probably get here early in the morning to drag me with him.”“Then we’ll have to be ready, won’t we?”He was watching her, a soft look in his eyes, and she wanted to cry and be held by him again. He was too good. She didn’t deserve him, and she was putting him in danger just by letting him love her. It hurt to think about, and so she turned her attention to the safe behind them.“Do you have the right code?” she asked, her voice wobbling a little, and he nodded, reaching in his pocket for his phone.“Took a picture of it before I changed it,” he said. “Figured it might come in useful.”She gave him a flat look, hands on hips.“You’re a sneaky bastard, anyone ever tell you that?” she said, and he showed his teeth.“Takes one to know one, hmm?”“Yeah, okay, I deserved that.” She stepped aside to give him access. “You want to do the honours?”Weaver nodded, phone in hand, and bent to tap out a code on the keyboard, the flashing cursor bringing up a line of asterisks. This time there was a dull click, and when Lacey turned the dial, there was a tiny squeak from the mechanism as the door opened. She pulled it wide, peering inside, and Weaver held up his phone screen to give her a little more light. Inside she could see a thick folder, wedged in and curved to fit the small space. She reached for it, tugging it out. Another hard drive came with it, almost hitting the floor before Weaver caught it, and Lacey looked at the heavy holder in her hands. It was a cardboard concertina file, the kind that held legal documents, tied at the top with a piece of woven cotton. Lacey carried it to the desk and tugged at the bow, opening it up.“What do we have?” asked Weaver, and she shrugged, pulling out a sheaf of papers and flicking through them.“Not sure. Grandma said it was evidence that my mother gathered against my father. Looks like accounts, property deeds… wait, here’s a letterhead. Isaac Heller. That was the lawyer that was murdered, right?”“So these files are his?”
Weaver was looking over her shoulder, and she could smell his scent, warm and comforting. It made her want to kiss him, so she concentrated on his hands, turning the pages in front of her.“Must have been what they were looking for,” he said, almost to himself, and she turned her head to face him.“Who?”“Whoever murdered him,” he said simply. “When I was first on the case, we went over to his place. It had been taken apart, even the couch cushions slashed open. Whatever this is, someone didn’t want us to have it.”“Grandma said he wanted to carry on his wife’s legacy,” said Lacey, and Weaver nodded slowly.“His wife was working with reformed criminals, getting information about your family,” he said. “She had this idealistic notion that the authorities would help her. Just got her killed.” He glanced at her. “Your grandmother spoke of this?”“Not exactly,” admitted Lacey. “She wrote me a letter. Left it in the safe deposit box with the hard drive I gave to Felix. She said - she said she knew what was happening to her, and - and she wanted to find me while she could still speak. She agreed to try to help Heller finish his wife’s work, if he could find me. Guess he almost did.”
“Guess so.” Weaver flicked through the pages, and stepped back. “Well. We can look through this later, as soon as we decide how we’re gonna proceed. Shall we eat? Mrs Potts should have made those sandwiches by now.”“You met Mrs Potts?”“She threatened to shoot me,” he said dryly, and Lacey giggled.“Her bark’s worse than her bite.”“Given that the gun she threatened to shoot me with turned out to be a frying pan, I believe you,” he remarked, and reached for her hand, holding it between his own and patting it gently. “Come on. Let’s go down to the kitchen. Put that back until we decide what to do.”Lacey nodded, pulling away and shoving the folder back into the safe before sliding the hard drive in on top and shutting the door. Now that their confrontation was over, she felt drained and weary, her legs threatening to collapse underneath her and pitch her onto the rug. She was relieved when Weaver put an arm around her, guiding her back towards the door and down the stairs, and was happy to lean on him a little as they went.Mrs Potts wasn’t in the kitchens, but she had set out a large plate of sandwiches: ham and mustard, pastrami with lettuce and tomato, and sliced egg salad with homemade mayonnaise. There were pieces of rich fruit cake, dark and moist, and small apple and cinnamon tarts. A bottle of red wine was open, two glasses by the side, and Weaver felt his mouth water. It had been a long day, and he had eaten little. Lacey reached for one of the sandwiches, slipping into a chair, and Weaver poured them each a glass of wine, taking the chair next to her and pulling the plate of sandwiches closer. He shifted in his seat a little, reaching into his back pocket for his notebook and pencil and setting it on the table in front of him before cramming one of the sandwiches into his mouth. Lacey raised an eyebrow, and he shrugged, brandishing the pencil as he chewed and swallowed.“Thought I might as well start planning,” he said, and took another sandwich.He wrote down the positives in their situation, what they had to their advantage, which was precious little beyond the information in the safe and the element of surprise. On the opposite page he wrote down what they were facing. This was a far longer list, and made him shake his head. He turned the page, making a list of what he knew about the Schwartz family from his own investigations, to make sure there was nothing he was missing. Lacey sat in silence for the most part, eating her way through some of the sandwiches, and occasionally coaxing him to eat some. The apple tarts were excellent. He had three of those.After a while he ran out of information, and sat back with a sigh, taking a slurp of wine. Lacey reached for another of the sandwiches and took a bite, and Weaver pondered their options, tapping his pencil against the notebook. He dug in his pocket for his phone, flicking the screen to call Detective Fa. After a moment she answered with her usual terse greeting. There was music playing in the background, a rock ballad of some sort, and Weaver frowned.“What’s your status?” he asked, and she sighed.“We followed the guy to a dive bar where he’s been drinking beer and playing pool with a bunch of local no-hopers,” she said. “I had to restrain Merida from getting up to play him herself.”“Good,” said Weaver. “She’d kick his arse, and we don’t need that kind of attention.”“Looks like he’s settled in for the night,” she said. “There’s a bed and breakfast up the road: I heard him tell one of the idiots he’s playing that he has a room there. Merida went to book us in.”“Okay. Make sure you keep an eye on him.”“Thanks, I’d never have thought of that,” she said sarcastically. “How are things with you? Did you find Lacey?”“I did.” He ran a hand through his hair. “She’s fine. I’ll fill you in later. We’ve got some planning to do, so I’ll call again.”“If there’s any movement from this end, I’ll call.”“Good. Thanks, Fa.”“Anytime, asshole.”Weaver grinned, hanging up, and put down the phone.
“They’re keeping an eye on what’s-his-name,” he said. “He won’t make a move without them seeing.”“Good,” she said. “He’ll be back tomorrow morning to take me back to Vegas, though, so we need to come up with a plan.”“If you have any brilliant ideas, now’s the time to tell me.”Lacey shook her head, looking rueful.“Fresh out,” she said gloomily. “If I was feeling self-serving, I’d say offer them Heller's info in exchange for leaving us the hell alone, but they can’t be trusted. None of them.”She took a bite of her sandwich, and Weaver nodded, picking up his pencil again.“Besides,” she added, her words muffled by sandwich. “I kinda want to finish what Grandma started, you know?”“I understand,” he said. “The more I think about it, the more it looks like an us or them situation. Let’s make sure it’s fucking us that comes out of this alive, right?”“Means we have to kill ‘em,” she said, looking dejected.“Does that bother you?”“Only that it’s bloody impossible.”“No one’s impossible to kill,” said Weaver grimly.Lacey wrinkled her nose, as if to say she disagreed with him, but she said nothing, taking another bite of her sandwich. Weaver tapped his pencil against the pad, thinking.“What can you tell me about the kind of set-up they have down there?” he asked, and Lacey shrugged, chewing and swallowing.“Big complex out in the desert,” she said. “About five miles out of Vegas. Sometimes my father or Fiona will visit the casinos. but most of the time they’re at the house. And there’s no schedule for when they do their visits, either.”“So no way to intercept them at the casinos, then,” he said. “What about the house? What sort of defences do they have?”She shook her head.“You won’t be able to get in,” she said. “The complex may look like a mansion, but it’s stuffed full of armed guards and the rest of the scum that work for them. Took me long enough to work out how to leave, never mind getting back in there.”“I’m resourceful,” he said, and she put a hand over his, giving him a firm look.“I know that, Rafe, but you’re also mortal,” she said. “No need to go out in a blaze of glory. No point.”“True,” he agreed. “No such thing as a glorious death, in my opinion. Usually it’s just a fucking waste, and that’s not what I want for us. I want us to come out of this whole and healthy with a new life ahead of us. Me, you, and Tilly.”“Good,” she said, sitting back. “Because I’d get Mrs Potts to sit on you until you agreed not to go, anyway.”“Right.” He chuckled and reached for a piece of cake, breaking a chunk off and stuffing it in his mouth as he scribbled some notes. “So a head-on attack’s out of the question. What about the guy who drove you here? Felix?”Lacey shrugged.“Loyal, far as I can tell,” she said. “My father always punished disloyalty in pretty lethal ways. And he paid well. Kind of dissuaded anyone from turning on him.”“So I can’t break in there, and we can’t get someone on the inside to get me in,” he mused, running a hand over his mouth.“Except me,” she said, and Weaver shook his head firmly.“There’s no way I’m sending you into something where I can’t go in and drag you out,” he said. “From what you say, the police can’t be relied on, and I agree. A lot of my investigations involving the Vegas connection were met with stonewalling. Any suggestion to them that your father and his crew should be taken out would probably be referred to him.”“Sounds about right,” she said gloomily, and took a drink of wine. Weaver sighed, sweeping a hand through his hair.“In which case, I have another proposal,” he said.“Which is?”“We stay here,” he said, jabbing a finger on the table top. “Make our stand. Make them come to us.”Lacey looked thoughtful.“You mean I tell Felix to fuck off back to Vegas without me?” she said. “You’re thinking they’ll turn up to drag me back, hmm? Could work. We’ll need to keep you, Merida and Mulan out of it, though.”Weaver shook his head.“I’m not leaving you to face Felix alone…”“I’ve been dealing with assholes like that my whole life,” she insisted. “I can tell him to go screw himself without any input from you guys, trust me.”“And if he decides to shoot first and explain it to his boss later?” he demanded, and Lacey shook her head.“My father wants to see me, according to Fiona,” she said. “No way Felix is gonna sign his own death warrant by getting in the way of that. I’m telling you, this could work. But I’m gonna need your gun.”Weaver drummed his fingers on the table, eyeing her, and Lacey raised her chin with that stubborn look she got.“Okay, fine,” he said wearily. “But you face him somewhere I can watch both of you and not be seen, okay?”“Okay,” she said, nodding. “I can do that.”“Which brings us to the matter of your father and stepmother,” he said. “Ideally we want them both to come here. And the - the Blue Fairy too, if possible.”Lacey pursed her lips.“You really did your homework, didn’t you?”Weaver inclined his head.“It’s my job.”“It’s kind of sexy. Anyone ever tell you that?”“Not in living memory, no,” he said, grinning.
“What do you think? You think they’ll come to us?”“My father and Fiona, probably,” she said. “Not sure about Azurine - that’s the Blue Fairy, in case you didn’t have her name. And definitely not if they think it’s a setup. If they get the slightest whiff of someone else being here, they’re gonna flood this place with armed men and it’ll end up a bloodbath. Which means I need to convince Felix it’s just me being a stubborn brat, so he leaves for Vegas without me.”“You think he will?”Lacey pulled a face.“Depends how strict my father was with his orders,” she said. “There again, he has the hard drive, so maybe that’s all they want. He may go and - and they might not come.”“Maybe not,” he agreed. “In which case we have to come up with a better plan.”“It’s not a great plan, is it?” she said heavily. “Piss off a minion and wait for your murderous mob boss father to turn up?”“You got any better ideas?” he asked, and she snorted.“God, no! Considering what we have to work with, it’s as good as it gets. Just don’t fuck it up by bursting into the room if Felix gets handsy, okay?”“I’m a patient man,” he said evenly, and she smiled.“Guess you proved that, huh?” she said, and grasped his hand again. “I don’t deserve you, Detective Weaver.”“Bollocks,” he said dismissively, and leaned in to kiss her. “We decided a long time ago that we were gonna make a life together. That hasn’t changed for me just because of some difficult relatives.”“Difficult?” Lacey looked amused. “Understatement of the century.”She kissed him again, and pressed her forehead to his affectionately. Weaver sighed, reaching up to stroke her hair.“Are you finished with the food?” he asked, and she nodded.“Yeah, I’m done.”Weaver kissed her forehead, nuzzling her nose with his as he breathed in the scent of her.“Come on, then,” he said quietly. “Let’s go to bed.”Lacey let him pull her to her feet, and they each took a glass of wine, heading up the stairs into the main part of the house. She led the way, one hand on the gleaming banister, walking along thickly-carpeted corridors to the bedroom with the sage green walls and the large bed where she had slept for the months she had spent apart from him, back when Tilly had been growing inside her, back when she thought she would never see him again. Four years on, and she wanted him even more than she had that first night, their relationship changed from hesitant first-time lovers into something intense, something real.She closed the door behind them, setting her glass of wine down on the nightstand as she turned on one of the lamps. Weaver turned off the main light, the lamp sending a warm, muted glow around the room, making the shadows of his eyes and cheekbones deeper and darker. She sat on the edge of the bed, tugging off her boots, and he took a sip of his wine as he watched her run fingers through her curls. He was very still, and for a terrible, frightened moment she thought perhaps he wouldn’t want her. Her teeth caught at her lower lip nervously.“Is - is this okay?” she faltered. “I - I never asked if you wanted to share a bed with me.”His face softened, and he stepped forward, putting his glass next to hers and cupping her cheek with a warm hand as he sank down onto his heels, gazing up at her.“I have missed you so, so much,” he whispered. “I love you, Lacey. I love you and I want you.”His other hand reached up, framing her face, and she could smell the scent of him on his fingers, musk and spice, a hint of leather from his jacket and the faintest whiff of cologne. She turned her head a little to kiss his palm, nuzzling him with her nose, and he shifted onto his knees, pressing his forehead to hers as his fingers pushed into her hair. She could feel her breath quicken as his mouth brushed against hers, and he kissed her gently, lips pulling and stroking. Her hands slid over his shoulders, fingers brushing up over the nape of his neck and into his hair as the kiss deepened.Weaver drew back, sitting on his heels again as he shrugged out of his jacket. Lacey was watching him with those beautiful eyes of hers, wide and shining, her lips full and dark. He could feel his heart thumping, his mind humming with a jumbled mess of emotions: pure love for his wife tinged with fear over the dangers they faced, and determination that they would get through it together. Lacey reached for him, fingers shaking a little as they plucked at the buttons of his shirt, and he sat still, letting her unfasten them and push the shirt from his shoulders before shrugging it off. He shifted closer, pushing in between her legs, hands sliding up her thighs as he knelt up to press his mouth to hers.She tasted sweet, of wine and cinnamon sugar, and she let out a tiny moan as his tongue slipped into her mouth and stroked gently. He broke the kiss, pulling back a little, and his hands pushed her dress up her thighs. Lacey shifted, letting him slip it over her hips and around her waist before lifting her arms so that he could tug the dress over her head. She reached behind to unhook her bra, tossing it to the side, and he let out a heavy sigh of contentment, eyes running over her pale curves, reaching up to cup her breasts with gentle hands. Lacey was tugging at her lower lip with her teeth, as though she was trying to stop it from trembling, and so he kissed her again, trying to send her reassurance, wanting to comfort her.
Her fingers were touching his chest, gently stroking over his skin and raising goosebumps on his flesh as her thumbs circled his nipples. It felt good to be touched by her again, to know that she loved him, that they were united, that she would let him fight for her. Lacey’s kiss grew hungry, her hands sliding up over his shoulders and tugging him closer, and he let his own hands follow the curve of her waist, fingers hooking beneath the waistband of her tights and tugging them down with her underwear. He had to move back to push them down her thighs and tug them off at her feet, but then he leaned in to kiss her again, mouth trailing along her jaw and down her throat.
Lacey moaned, lowering herself back onto the bed as his hands parted her knees, feeling him press his body against hers, the buckle of his belt hard and cold against the hot skin of her belly. She wrapped her legs around his back, wanting to keep him there, to feel the comforting heat and weight of him against her. She had missed him so much, and the fact that he loved her still, after all her lies and her attempts to push him away, made her want to cry. It felt good to be held, to be wanted, to know that there was no more need for secrets and defensiveness. It felt good to be honest with the man she loved.She ran her hands through his hair, loving the softness of it, the way it slid through her fingers, the scent of him drifting into her nose as his tongue probed her mouth. His kisses were hard and urgent, almost desperate, and she was reminded of the night that Tilly had been made, the night when they had needed one another with a passion that had surprised them both. She needed him again, and she reached between them, fumbling at his belt. Weaver drew back, getting to his feet to unbuckle the belt and take off his jeans and boots, and she wriggled on the bed, pulling back the blankets and slipping inside.
The sheets were crisp and cool and scented with the lavender fabric softener she remembered so well. She closed her eyes, focusing on the thud of her pulse and the cool cotton sheets, smiling a little as she felt the bed dip with the weight of his body. Weaver slipped in beside her, a warm hand sliding up to cup her breast as he covered her body with his, firm chest pressing down on her. His lips trailed along her jaw to find her mouth, and she moaned as he kissed her, his hand sliding back down, over the flat of her belly and between her legs. Lacey gasped into his mouth as he touched her, fingers sliding through delicate flesh, spreading the slippery wetness he released. Her hands gripped his shoulders, nails digging in a little as his fingers pushed inside her, and Weaver groaned into her mouth, pulling his lips from hers to kiss down her throat.She could feel him against her thigh, the hard, hot length of him, and she gasped, letting her head roll back as his fingers pushed in and out of her, his thumb brushing over her clit and sending jolts of pleasure through her. He kept his thrusts slow and steady, working her up to what she knew would be a blissful climax, but she wanted him inside her. She wanted to feel him deep within her, to take him with her when she came.Her hands pushed at him, making him raise his head, and he stilled for a moment, confusion wrinkling his brow before she slipped a hand down between their bodies to grasp his cock and squeeze. He let out a low growl, kissing her neck again, his teeth gently nipping before his tongue swept over her pulse point, and Lacey sighed in pleasure, running her hands up his sides and around his back. Drawing out his fingers, he took himself in hand, shifting a little before guiding himself into her, and she moaned as she felt him slide deep, pushing into her, a deep groan rumbling up through his chest.
Weaver felt Lacey lift her knees, inner thighs sliding up his sides so that he could push deeper. He sank into her hot flesh with a groaning gasp of pleasure, and cupped her face with shaking hands, fingers pushing into her dark curls as he pressed his brow to hers.“God, I’ve missed you, sweetheart!” he breathed, nuzzling her nose with his. “I’ve missed you so much! I love you, Lacey. Always, always.”Her lower lip trembled, and she nodded, tears welling up in her eyes as her fingers stroked through his hair, sending shivers through him. Two tears tracked down her cheeks, and he kissed them away, his mouth finding hers, tongue stroking against her own as he began to move with slow, rhythmic circles of his hips. Lacey arched her back a little, pushing her breasts against his chest as she moaned into his mouth. Being inside her felt incredible, the sensations enhanced by their honesty, by her declaration. He could feel love for her rising within him, a swelling tide brimming over and waiting to wash over them.
She wrapped her legs around his back, tugging him close against her, and Weaver pulled his mouth from hers, saliva making their lips slippery, his breath coming in pants. His cock was thick and rigid, sliding in and out of her, and there was heat and wetness where their bodies joined, the pull of her flesh against his a delicious sensation. She arched upwards with a moan as he ground against her, head rolling back a little as she tilted her hips upwards, and he quickened his pace, his thrusts growing harder, deeper.Lacey could feel him nearing his peak, his cock a thick rod of hard flesh inside her, the scent of his musk and sweat in her nose and the taste of him in her mouth. It was almost too much, the rising bliss and the feel of him pressing down on her. The thick silver links of the chain he wore around his neck hung down, cold against her skin where it touched her, and he kissed her again, messy and desperate, his stubble scraping against her chin and his fingers still sticky with her fluids as they pushed into her hair.
She could feel heat rising, her climax approaching, and she broke the kiss with a gasp, cheeks flushing as her body stiffened. A wave of pleasure broke over her, and she came with a cry, clutching at him, bucking her hips against him. Weaver followed her with a low, guttural groan, his cock pulsing deep inside her as her flesh tugged at his, and she peppered his neck with kisses, tongue sweeping over his damp skin and licking up the taste of salt and musk and the faint, clean smell of his cologneWeaver pushed up on his elbows, letting his head drop as he tried to catch his breath, the cool air in the room starting to lick along the damp skin of his naked back. Lacey was murmuring contentedly, hands stroking through his hair, and he felt a surge of love for her as the bliss of his orgasm faded. He raised his head, blinking sleepily, and she was watching him through heavy-lidded eyes, a tiny smile curving her perfect mouth. He found himself smiling back, and her lower lip wobbled again as she reached up to cup his cheek, thumb rasping against his stubble as she stroked.“I love you,” she whispered. “I love you so much, believe me.”Weaver kissed her palm, his nose nuzzling the tips of her fingers before he turned back to press his forehead against hers and feel her warm breath against his lips.“Yes,” he said, his voice rough with emotion. “And I love you, too.”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

The bedroom was warm, the bed itself larger and with heavier blankets than he was used to, but with Lacey in his arms, Weaver felt content. Whole.It must have been late, but he didn’t want to break out of the warm cocoon they had made in the blankets to check his phone. Lacey stirred against his chest, letting out a tiny sigh as her fingertips traced patterns on the skin of his belly.“You okay?” he asked, and she stretched her legs, yawning a little.“Yeah. Kinda blissed out. That was amazing.”He grinned, raising his head off the pillows to press his lips to the top of her head.“Yes.”There was silence for a moment. He could sense she was thinking about something, fingers dancing and stroking, and she took a breath, shifting against him.“When all this is over,” she said carefully. “What happens? I mean - I mean with us?”Weaver looked up, but she still had her head on his chest, only her hair visible from his angle.“Well,” he said. “I was thinking we could be a family again. If you wanted.”“I do,” she said quickly. “I do want.”“So - so I can move back in?”“If that’s okay.”
She sounded hesitant, as though she was unsure he would say yes, and so he kissed her head, nuzzling her hair briefly.“I’ve hated being apart from you and Tilly,” he whispered. “I want us all to be together.”“Me too.” Her voice shook a little, her grip around him tightening. “I’ve been so lonely, Rafe, and - and so scared. I missed you.”He pulled her tight against him, kissing her again.“Then it’s settled,” he said quietly. “I’m moving back in.”Lacey nodded, her head rubbing against his chest.“I thought maybe we could have a change of scene, though,” he added. “Move out of the apartment. Get a house in the suburbs.”She wriggled onto her side, gazing up at him with large eyes, gleaming in the half-light.“Near the Nolans?” she asked.“Maybe.”“And - and can we have a garden?”He smiled at that, stroking her hair.“Tilly asked if we could get a dog,” he said. “What do you think?”“I’d love a dog!” she said immediately. “And cats? Can we get some cats?”“‘Some’ cats?” he said wryly. “How many are we talking?”Lacey pursed her lips.“Two,” she said. “Or three. Maybe.”“Maximum three, I think. Let’s find a house we like first.”“Okay.”She grinned happily, snuggling closer, and he kissed the top of her head. He was feeling heavy-limbed and contented, wanting to drift towards sleep. She nuzzled at his nipple with the tip of her nose, making him smile.“Rafe?”“Mmm?”“You know you said you wanted another baby?”Weaver raised his head a little. He could see one half of Lacey’s face, the other pressed against his chest and her teeth tugging at her lower lip. She shifted, raising her head to catch his eyes with hers.“I - I think I’d like that too,” she said hesitantly, and he felt his smile grow.“Yeah?“Yeah.”He turned a little, rolling them onto their sides, and bent his head to kiss her, one hand sinking into her hair as his lips pulled at hers. She moaned a little, hands stroking up his back, and he felt his cock begin to harden against her belly as the kiss deepened. When he pulled back she was smiling, and he grinned in response.“We’ll make another baby, then,” he said. “After I deal with the rest of your family. I think that has to take precedence.”Lacey pouted.“Doesn’t mean we can’t get some practice in,” she said, her eyes gleaming, and his grin widened as he rolled her onto her back.Weaver woke before dawn, the sky outside still dark and Lacey sleeping soundly by his side. He slid quietly from the bed, pulling on boxers, jeans and his shirt to keep off the chill before slipping barefoot from the room and heading for the study where they had found the safe. He eased himself into one of the leather chairs, slipping his phone from his pocket and scrolling through his messages. Three from Fa on the hour, starting from four hours earlier, and one from Merida an hour ago, both of them checking in to say they were fine and that Felix hadn’t left. They looked to be taking turns to keep watch, which meant that Merida was currently awake. He flicked at the screen with his thumb to call her, and she picked up on the second ring. Weaver explained Lacey’s situation in brief sentences.“So Lacey’s family are a bunch of bastards down in Vegas,” said Merida, when he was done, “and she’s been trying to protect you by pushing you away so they don’t just kill you out of hand. And also so you don’t go down there and try to kill them, which would probably get you killed.” She let out a low whistle. “Your wife knows you well, doesn’t she?”Weaver sighed, which made her chuckle.“I’m kidding,” she said. “Mostly. Please tell me you have a plan to deal with your murderous in-laws.”“Lacey used the key she took from me to retrieve a hard drive of evidence, which Felix, the guy you’re watching, now has,” he said. “She was supposed to go to Vegas to see her father, and take the hard drive with her. She needs to convince Felix to go without her, so maybe her father will come here to bring her back himself.”“Looking to face him on favourable territory, huh?”“Exactly,” said Weaver. “But we don’t want there to be any suspicion that Lacey has us as backup, so I need you and Fa to keep your bloody heads down and stay out of Felix’s way. Let him come up to the house and I’ll call you when he leaves. Stay out of sight until he’s out of town.”“And if he refuses to go?”“Then I’ll handle it,” he said grimly.“How are things otherwise?” she asked.“I’m fine,” he said impatiently, and she clicked her tongue.
“I meant with you and Lacey, yer numpty!”“She’s fine,” said Weaver, his tone acidic. “We’re both fine. Just do as I said, okay?”“You had sex, didn’t you?”Weaver sighed, rolling his eyes.“Mind your own bloody business.”“That’s not a no...”“Dunbroch, so help me…”“Alright, fine !” she said, in a long-suffering voice. “Mulan and I had sex too, in case you were interested.”“Really, really wasn’t, but thanks.”“It was amazing!”“Took you long enough,” he said. “Getting back to the actual plan…”“God, you’re no fun. I’m gonna have to give Roni all the juicy details instead.”“I bet she can’t fucking wait for that,” he said dryly. “Could you do me a favour and pull your head out of lesbian sex for five minutes?”“That’s not what Mulan said...”“Jesus…” Weaver ran a frustrated hand over his face. “Can we focus here? What did I just tell you?”“Keep out of the bloody way and let the skinny blond guy head up to the house,” she said promptly. “You’ll call when he goes. Stay out of sight until he leaves town.”Weaver grunted.“Well, at least you were listening, I suppose.”“I can multitask, you know,” she said. “I can think about the hotness of Fa Mulan while I listen to a miserable old bastard. Been doing it for years.”“Well, multitask your arse up to the house once I call you,” he snapped, and she giggled.“Yes, Detective.”“Good. I’ll see you in a few hours.”He hung up before she could answer, shaking his head. Pushing out of the chair, he headed down the stairs, ears pricked for any noise that might indicate that he was not alone. The house was silent but for the ticking of clocks and the dull clanking of old heating pipes as they expanded. If the heating was on, perhaps Mrs Potts would soon be up. Weaver checked the kitchens, finding them empty, but the sound of footsteps on the stairs behind him made him tense and put his hand on his gun.“Only me, dear.” Mrs Potts bustled into the kitchen, patting her grey bun and smoothing the apron she wore. “You’re up early.”“Always been an early riser,” said Weaver. “I left Lacey sleeping.”Mrs Potts shook her head.“I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to calling Miss Belle that,” she murmured, and clapped her hands together. “Now! Tea? I need to see how Cogsworth’s doing this morning, but I never start the day without a nice cup of tea. Or would you prefer coffee?”Weaver smiled, leaning back against the heavy kitchen table.“Coffee, if it’s not too much trouble.”“Not at all. Take a seat. I expect you’d like something to eat, too?”“Coffee will do for now.”“You should put some shoes on,” she scolded, gesturing at his bare feet. “If I drop a hot teapot on you, you’ll be no good to anyone.”There was too much truth in that to ignore, so Weaver went back upstairs, sneaking into the bedroom to retrieve his boots and socks. He tried to be as quiet as he could, but Lacey woke, yawning and lifting her head.“Time is it?” she said sleepily.“Early,” he whispered. “Go back to sleep.”“Nah, it’s okay, I’m awake.” She pushed up on the heels of her hands, looking adorably dishevelled. “Is Mrs Potts awake?”“Up and making some coffee,” he said, tugging on his boots. “I’ll bring you a cup.”“Okay, I’ll take a shower.”
Fifteen minutes later, they were seated around the kitchen table, Weaver on his second cup of coffee and Lacey with damp hair, hands cradling a steaming cup of tea.“I could make you some eggs,” offered Mrs Potts. “Or there’s drop scones. Fresh crumpets. What about a nice bacon sandwich?”Lacey wrinkled her nose.“I know that’d all be delicious, but I’m not sure I could eat anything,” she said, and Mrs Potts sighed, getting to her feet.“If I make it anyway, perhaps I can tempt you,” she said. “I was going to take tea and toast up to Cogsworth.”“I’ll go see him later, if he’s feeling better,” said Lacey.“You’ll do no such thing,” said Mrs Potts severely. “He doesn’t know you’re here, and in his sick state, what he doesn’t know, he can’t let slip to anyone else.”“Is this person a threat?” asked Weaver grimly, and Lacey sighed, putting down her cup.“Not intentionally. Cogsworth’s my grandfather’s old butler. He’s a sweetheart, but he can’t keep a secret to save his life, and he’s terrified of my dad. Best he doesn’t know I’m here. At least for now.”Weaver grunted, taking a sip of coffee.“We’ll stay out of his way,” he confirmed.Mrs Potts was bustling around, getting out crumpets and turning on the grill. Lacey was gazing into her teacup as though she would find some answers there, and Weaver reached across the kitchen table, taking her hand and making her start and look up.“Okay?” he said quietly.“Yeah,” she sighed. “I wish we could see Tilly.”“I’ll call Nolan for an update later,” he assured her. “Maybe we can speak to her, how about that?”“If it’s safe,” she agreed, squeezing his hand. “If we know no one followed them.”“Nolan would have seen,” he said. “Don’t worry, I’m sure they’re fine.”She nodded hurriedly, teeth tugging at her lower lip, and he drank the rest of his coffee, reaching out to pour himself another cup. His phone buzzed in his pocket, and Lacey glanced at him with wide, frightened eyes as he fished it out.“Dunbroch, what’s happening?” he said tersely.“The canary has flown the cage,” she said ominously, and Weaver sighed.“Felix is on his way?”“Just getting in his car,” she confirmed. “You want us to follow him?”“No,” he said sharply. “Remember what I said, let him come to us. He still has the tracker in his car, doesn’t he?”“Yep.”“Good. Let him go. I’ll call you when the coast’s clear.”“Got it.”She rang off, and Weaver shoved his phone in his pocket, meeting Lacey’s eyes.“He’s coming,” he said quietly.
“Well,” said Mrs Potts, smoothing the front of her apron and looking determined. “You two go and take yourselves upstairs. He won’t get past me without a smack from my frying pan.”“You don’t need to get physical with him,” said Weaver, grinning. “But I’d appreciate knowing where he is, so if you could follow him and make as much noise as possible, I’d appreciate it.”She sniffed.“Righteous anger is something I can do.”“Good.” Weaver turned back to Lacey. “We need to find somewhere to face him down.”Lacey put down her cup, taking a deep breath and raising her chin.“I’ve got the perfect place,” she said. “My grandmother’s bedroom.”Weaver wasn’t sure what he expected when Lacey led him up the stairs, but as a place to make their stand, her grandmother’s bedroom turned out to be ideal. It was light and spacious, with a large closet where he could conceal himself and still keep an eye on Lacey, who was now sitting in the chair beside the bed. The old woman lying there hooked up to machines was gaunt and thin, eyes closed, the skin around them purplish and translucent. Lacey had told him her grandmother was unable to speak or move, and seemed to spend most of her time asleep. It looked to be true. Weaver moved closer as Lacey reached out to take the thin claw of a hand lying atop the crisp white sheets.“Hey Grandma,” said Lacey gently. “It’s me again. I’m back, and I brought some help. This is Rafe, my husband. He’s a detective, and the best man I ever met. He’s gonna take care of me, I swear. You don’t have to worry about me, okay?”For a moment, Weaver thought he saw the old woman’s eyelids flutter, but Lacey didn’t react, and so he assumed he had imagined it.“One of my father’s men is gonna come here to try to take me away,” added Lacey. “And I’m not gonna go, okay? I’m gonna stay and fight it. I won’t go! I won’t go anywhere until all this is over.”Silence. The machines continued to beep rhythmically, and Lacey sighed, releasing her grandmother’s hand and sitting back.“I don’t even know if she can hear me,” she whispered, sounding despondent.“She can hear you,” said Weaver, and she sent him a brief smile, pushing to her feet and holding out her hand.“Give me your gun,” she said, and clicked her tongue as he hesitated. “Come on, I need something to get him to back off.”Weaver shook his head, but reached for his gun, handing it over.“Need me to show you how to use it?”“No, I got it.”Lacey inspected the gun, looking troubled, and glanced around as the sound of Mrs Potts shouting came floating up from below.
“Sounds like our visitor’s here,” said Weaver, and Lacey took a deep breath.“Go on, get in the closet.”Weaver frowned as he headed for the closet, and closed the doors after him, feeling useless. He had a decent view of the room through the gap in the doors, and his eyes flicked from where Lacey stood, tense and ready with the gun behind her back, to the door that led out to the corridor“You can’t just wander around this house as though you own the place!” Mrs Potts was coming closer, the steady tread of footsteps in the corridor outside accompanied by a rapid tapping of feet as she approached. “Get back downstairs immediately! I’ll tell Miss Schwartz you want to see her!”The door opened, and the tall man they had followed from Boston entered, blond hair falling over a high forehead, a lazy smile stretching his thin mouth.“You can’t be in here!” squawked Mrs Potts, hurrying after him like an indignant mother hen. “Mrs d’Avonlea would be horrified if—”“It’s okay, Mrs Potts,” said Lacey with a calm that made Weaver feel a surge of love and admiration. “Go back down to the kitchens. I’d like some breakfast now, please. Some of your fresh crumpets, with butter. And some more tea.”Mrs Potts seemed to waver, but nodded tersely.“Well, if you’re sure,” she said, shooting a nasty look at Felix. “I’ll go and put the kettle on.”Lacey could feel her heart hammering in her chest, but she told herself to be brave as she watched Mrs Potts leave the room. She turned to face Felix, raising her chin a little as though she would look down her nose at him.“Ms Schwartz,” he said, in that lazy drawl of a voice. “No time for breakfast. I want to get on the road.”“Yeah, about that,” said Lacey, hoping she sounded calmer than she felt. “I’m not going.”His sly smile faltered only slightly.“What?”“You heard me,” she said. “I’m not going. I’m staying here, to take care of my grandmother. You have what you came for, just take it back to my father.”He took a step closer, and she licked her lips nervously.“I don’t have what I came for,” he said quietly. “He told me to take you back to him.”
“Tell him I wouldn’t come,” she said, and he let out a low chuckle.“That’s not how this works,” he said. “You must know that. Mr Schwartz always gets what he wants.”“Yeah, well, not this time.” Lacey wondered if he could hear the thud of her heart. The gun felt alien in her hand, heavy and almost oily. She was scared she would drop it. “I’m not going. He’ll have to come up here and drag me back by the heels if he wants me there.”Felix shook his head.“Enough of this bullshit,” he muttered, stepping forward, and Lacey slipped her arm from behind her back, arms outstretched, both hands on the gun.Felix froze, eyes narrowing, and she wished her lip would stop trembling.“Hands up!” she snapped. “Get them up!”Slowly, very slowly, he raised his hands to shoulder height, and after his initial moment of shock, a twisted smile was spreading across his face.“Do you know how to use that thing?” he asked.“I grew up a Schwartz, what do you fucking think?” she snapped.The smile slipped a little.“You’re not gonna shoot me,” he said. “You look pretty scared to me, little Miss Schwartz. Maybe that’s why you ran, huh? Couldn’t handle the family business.”“I don’t want to shoot you,” Lacey agreed. “But I will if you don’t get the fuck out of this house, do you hear me? I am not going back to my father and his den of - of snakes! Now back the fuck away from me!”There was a heavy silence, the air pressing against the sides of her head, a high ringing in her ears. After what seemed like an eternity, Felix took a step back, eyeing her cautiously. She squared her jaw, fingers tightening on the gun, and he backed up again.“Your father won’t like this,” he said.“Ask me if I give a single, solitary fuck,” she said sarcastically. “If he wants to bitch about it, he knows where I am. Now get the hell out. If I see you around here again, I’ll put a bullet in your leg. And close the fucking door behind you, got it?”Weaver watched from his place in the wardrobe, almost ready to burst from tension and fear. He watched, pulse pounding in his head. Lacey was still standing with outstretched arms, the gun in her hands shaking a little with her trembling. Felix never took his eyes off her as he backed out of the room, and the sound of the door closing seemed to echo through the house. Lacey let the gun drop with a rush of air from her lungs, her body sagging. An outstretched hand, palm upwards and facing him, made Weaver stay in place, even as he itched to burst out of the closet and take her in his arms. She was listening, turned towards the door, and after a moment she walked over and wrenched it open, looking out. The waiting was agony, but after a solid two minutes Lacey nodded to herself, closed the door, and beckoned to him.“I think he’s gone,” she said, and rushed to the window.
Weaver closed the closet door behind him, watching her peer out from behind the curtains, her expression tense. All at once she seemed to relax, straightening up and letting the curtain fall as she turned to him.“He’s gone,” she said. “Back to Vegas, with any luck.”She looked as though she was ready to collapse, or burst into tears, or both, and so he went to her, taking the gun from her hands and slotting it carefully into its holster. Lacey let out a heavy sigh, almost falling into his arms, and he held her close, breathing in the scent of her and kissing her cheeks, her neck, her mouth. She clung to him, rubbing her head against his chest, and he kissed the top of her head.“He’s gone,” he reminded her. “And this will all soon be over.”“Yeah.” Lacey pulled back a little, looking up at him. “I know.”Weaver reached up to tuck a strand of dark hair behind her ear, her skin soft as silk beneath his fingers.“Are you scared?” he whispered.“Yeah. You?”“Yeah,” he admitted. "But mostly I'm really fucking angry at your family."Lacey gave him a tremulous smile.“That makes me feel a little less scared.”
“Good.” He kissed her forehead. “Because not one of those bastards is gonna hurt a hair on your head, okay?”Lacey took a deep breath, and then nodded fiercely.“I know,” she said, and smiled. “I love you.”“I love you, too.” He kissed her forehead again. “Now. We didn't eat breakfast yet.”“Mrs Potts was making crumpets.”“Good. I could eat a dozen.”Lacey giggled.“Careful,” she warned. “She likes feeding people up. A week in her kitchens and you might not fit into your jeans.”“A small price to pay, if it keeps you safe,” he said. “Come on. Tea, buttered crumpets… what could be better?”“Bacon sandwiches,” she declared. “I’m suddenly starving!”Weaver grinned, stepping back and slipping an arm around her waist."Well then," he said. "Let’s go and have breakfast."

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Mrs Potts was clearly relieved to see them enter the kitchen alive and unhurt, and fussed over them a little, patting hands and squeezing arms as she muttered darkly about skewering Felix with a toasting fork if he had hurt one hair on “Miss Belle’s” head. Their request for some breakfast earned an approving nod, and soon a delicious smell of frying bacon was drifting through the kitchen. Weaver sat at the table, occasionally sending Lacey a reassuring smile as he waited for Fa and Dunbroch to get in touch. Lacey seemed nervous, chewing on her lower lip and flinching at every sound, and he reached out to take her hand and squeeze it, making her start.“Even if he calls your father now and he takes the first flight out,” he said gently, “they won’t be here for hours.”“I know,” she said immediately. “I know, it’s just - well, I don’t know what to do. I’m not used to standing my ground, I usually just run. What are we gonna do when he gets here? If he gets here.”“You think he won’t come?” asked Weaver, and she hesitated.“No, I think he’ll come,” she said reluctantly. “I’m being disobedient, right? Disobedience - disloyalty - that means punishment. Given that I ran away, and how long I’ve been gone - he’s had a long time to be angry about it. He doesn’t forgive disloyalty.”She shivered as she said it, and the burning anger low in Weaver’s belly flared to life again. A buzz from his phone made him sit back, and he nodded curtly as he swiped the phone to answer.“Fa,” he said. “What’s your status?”“We just lost the target,” she said. “He’s driven out of range. You okay?”“Fine,” he said. “Lacey faced the bastard down like a warrior queen.”He shot Lacey a smile, and she beamed at him, although her lower lip trembled a little.“We still have the element of surprise,” he added. “He thinks she’s here alone. You’re sure the tracker’s still in the car?”“Seems to be,” she said. “He headed towards the freeway. Going to Boston, d’you think?”“The airport, perhaps,” he said. “He’s headed to Vegas, and I doubt he’d lose time with a road trip.”“Unless he’s waiting at the airport,” said Lacey, looking uncomfortable. “Waiting for my father to land.”Weaver met her eyes, and nodded.“Lacey’s just pointed out that he could be waiting on her father landing at the airport,” he told Fa. “Although I suppose there’s nothing to stop him coming back here in the meantime. What’s the range on the tracker?”“Only about six miles,” she said. “Should give us some warning if he does show up. Not much, but everything helps.”
“And assuming he uses the same car,” said Weaver, with a sigh. He ran a hand over his face, feeling weary. “We have some planning to do. Come on up to the house, we’re about to have breakfast.”“See you in five.”She hung up, and he put down the phone, glancing across at Lacey.“We’d better think about our strategy,” he said. “I’ll check flight times so we have some idea of how long we’ve got.”“My father has his own plane,” said Lacey. “Takes around six hours, as far as I can remember. Then there’s the drive from Portland - maybe another hour.”Her shoulders were hunched, as though she was tensing, expecting a blow from behind. It made his anger grow, but he nodded.“So we have at least seven hours,” he said grimly. “It’s enough. We need to think of a strategy in which we all come out of this alive.”“Best you eat a decent breakfast, then,” said Mrs Potts briskly, setting down a plate of bacon sandwiches. “Go on, dig in. I can make more if needed. There’s plenty of coffee, too.”“You’re an angel,” said Lacey, grabbing one of the sandwiches. “How’s Cogsworth?”“Still in bed and feeling very sorry for himself,” said Mrs Potts. “I’ll take him some tea. He doesn’t have much of an appetite at the moment, poor dear.”Lacey pulled a face.“Sucks that I can’t go and see him,” she said gloomily. “Still, maybe in a few days. You know, if—”
She broke off, looking uncomfortable, and took a bite of her sandwich. Weaver picked up one of his own, now bothering to finish her sentence out loud. If we can kill your bloody family, yes. You can spend as long as you want nursing him back to health then. If we fail… He shook his head, dispelling the thought. They couldn’t fail.The sandwich was good: crispy bacon rashers in a thick layer on well-buttered homemade bread with some sort of spicy tomato relish. He made a noise of approval as he chewed, melted butter running over his chin, and Lacey caught his eyes with her own, sending him a tiny grin. It was nice to see her smile again, however briefly.
Fa and Dunbroch turned up just as they were finishing the first sandwiches, barging into the kitchen with hands on their guns before they saw him and visibly relaxed. Mrs Potts ordered them to sit down immediately, scolding them about bringing guns to the breakfast table and receiving meek apologies in return as she set out clean cups and plates. Dunbroch was ecstatic about the bacon sandwiches, proclaiming Mrs Potts’ homemade relish to be the best she had ever tasted, and drinking several cups of coffee to wash them down.
When they were done with the meal, Mrs Potts cleared away, and the atmosphere abruptly changed to something heavy and tense. Weaver got out his notebook, setting it on the table in front of him and opening it up, and silence fell as he leaned on his elbows, threading his fingers together.“So,” he said, looking around at them all. “We need to make some plans. We know where the enemy is right now, but we don’t know whether they’ll come here, and if they do, when that’ll be.”“They’ll come,” said Lacey, sounding subdued. “Maybe not today, but soon.”Weaver glanced at Mrs Potts, who was setting another pot of coffee on the table and wiping her hands on her apron.“Do they get in touch before they come here?” he asked, and she nodded.“I usually get a call about a week in advance,” she said. “There are certain foods that they like, and Cogsworth has to make sure the wine cellar is stocked and there’s plenty of gin and brandy. Of course that’s when they come up during the summer, and they’re staying for a while. If it’s just a flying visit - well, I would still expect a call, but it may not be until they land.”“And if they want to catch me here,” said Lacey heavily. “They’ll give no warning at all.”“So we have to stay on alert, then,” said Fa. “Merida and I can take turns to watch. Where’s the best view of the road?”“Third floor study in the west wing,” said Lacey immediately. “I used to keep watch from there when I was a kid. You can see most of the way to the town. Should buy us a few minutes.”“I’ll take what I can get,” said Weaver, scribbling in the notebook. “What ammo have we got?”“Two clips each,” said Fa. “Plus knives if things get desperate. How many will there be?”Lacey blew out her cheeks, huffing air through her lips as she sat back.“My father and my stepmother, Fiona,” she said. “Maybe Azurine. Maybe not, they might have her holding down the fort in Vegas. They’ll have bodyguards, though. Two, maybe four. No more than four. Oh, and that Felix guy, I guess.”“Anyone else?”
Lacey shook her head, and Weaver nodded.“So at least four, maybe eight adversaries,” said Fa. “Against three of us. Not the best odds.”“We’re all crack shots, though,” said Merida. “And we have the element of surprise on our side.”“True, but that only lasts as long as first contact,” said Fa. “We need more weapons.”“My father’s study,” said Lacey. “He’s got a bunch of guns and ammo in there. Whatever you need.”“I’d prefer to avoid a gun battle in the house,” said Mrs Potts dryly. “At least try to steer clear of the china cabinet.”Weaver winced, but nodded.“We’ll do our best.”“We should check out the terrain,” said Fa. “If we can choose the battleground, better for us, right?”“Maybe we can pick a few of ‘em off before they even get in the house,” suggested Merida.“It’s an idea,” said Weaver. “I’d prefer it if they weren’t spooked into piling into a car and driving off, though. I want this done.”“If we let them get inside the house, maybe we can fix the car so they can’t leave,” suggested Merida. “We don’t want to give them a chance to regroup, come back with reinforcements.”Weaver nodded agreement.“I can do that,” said Mrs Potts quickly. “I’m not much use in a gun battle, but I can certainly deal with the car.”He eyed her.“I’m not expecting you to get involved at all,” he said. “This isn’t your fight.”“I beg your pardon, dear, but it’s most certainly my fight!” she said shortly. “I won’t let that man and his dreadful wife threaten Miss Belle. Not while I live and breathe!”Weaver sighed, but nodded.“Be careful,” he warned. “No taking stupid risks.”Mrs Potts snorted at that.“Says the man who’s looking to face down the head of an organised crime gang and his henchmen?”“Which is why I’m planning this so carefully,” said Weaver, in a patient tone. “Lacey, why don’t you give us a tour of the house? Should give us an idea of where it would be best to face them.”Lacey wrinkled her nose.
“Maybe the library,” she said, and pushed back her chair. “Come on, let’s go.”She led them upstairs, showing them around the spacious hallway with its grand staircase, and watched Mulan and Merida glance around, eyes scanning the walls for potential hiding places.
“Two landings, one each side,” said Mulan. “Could be a decent sniper position if we each took one.”“We’d need them to stand right in the middle of the hallway,” said Merida. “It definitely has potential, but we’d need a decent retreat, and it would mean running in opposite directions once the first shots are fired.”“Splitting up’s not a bad idea, though. Would mean they have to divide their efforts trying to track us down.”“Hmm.” Merida sounded unconvinced, but trotted up the stairs. “The landing curls around to the front and splits off to each wing. There’s a set of double doors at the front. Where does that lead, Lacey?”“Oh, there’s a balcony overlooking the front of the house,” she said. “Should let you see them when they pull up in the cars.”“Impressive backdrop for a showdown,” mused Merida, rubbing her chin. “But you’d be an easy target. Where’s the library?”“This way.”
Merida trotted back down the stairs, and Lacey led them to the right of the staircase and through the double doors leading to the west wing. The library curtains had been opened and tied back, cold morning light spilling into the room. Lacey folded her arms across her chest, shivering a little as she watched the others pacing back and forth across the floor.“Staircase over here.” Boots rang on wooden treads as Mulan took the stairs two at a time. “Okay, there’s a desk and chair, kind of a study area. There’s a set of low shelves here, could be a good place to hide.”“Where’s your exit?” called Merida, and Mulan glanced around.“The door to your right opens out onto the second floor landing,” said Lacey. “If I can get my father and stepmother in here, maybe the bodyguards will wait out in the hall.”“Maybe,” said Mulan vaguely. “If we take out the muscle first, it would make things easier. Maybe your father won’t want them listening in to whatever it is he has to tell you. Maybe we can start out on the landing, then double back into the library and finish the job.”“Lot of maybes,” remarked Weaver, and she nodded reluctantly.“Yeah, and if they hear gunshots out in the hallway, there’s nothing to stop them turning the whole place into a shooting range. It’s risky.”“It’s risky however we play it,” said Mulan. “The quicker we can even the odds, the better for us. I say we take out the bodyguards first. Try to separate them from your father if you can.”“I’ll do my best,” said Lacey. “I might be able to work that.”“What will they be armed with?” asked Weaver, and she shrugged.“The bodyguards will have handguns and spare clips,” she said. “Maybe a knife each. There may be other weapons in the car, but I doubt they’ll bring them into the house if they think it’s just me.”“We need to stop them arming themselves here,” said Mulan. “Let’s go to your father’s study after this, take all the weapons out of there.”Weaver nodded approval, and turned back to Lacey.“What about your father and stepmother?” he asked, and she shrugged.“My father will have a gun,” she said. “Don’t know about Fiona. I haven’t seen her carry one on a regular basis, but if they hear from Felix that I have a weapon… I don’t know. Maybe.”Weaver shook his head.“This is all sounding as though it could turn very violent, very quickly,” he said. “I don’t want you putting yourself in danger. There has to be a way to get them in here without bullets flying.”“I still say we should deal with the bodyguards first,” said Mulan, and he nodded.
“Got a silencer for your gun?” he asked, and she shook her head.“Should be some in the study,” said Lacey. “Come on, I’ll take you there.”She led them out, the others falling into step behind her. There was an odd sense of detachment, a feeling of being insubstantial, as though a strong wind would pull her into threads and blow her away. It felt a little like she had stepped into a dreamworld, a world where other people talked calmly about killing her father and his accomplices, and she felt no reaction other than a heavy sense of inevitability. She wanted it over.
“We should look at setting up some barricades,” Weaver was saying to the others. “If it turns into a gun battle we’ll want somewhere to duck and cover.”“The shelving looked sturdy enough, if we can move it,” said Merida. “Few of the chairs, too. Those high-backed leather things take a lot of punishment.”“Sounds good.”Lacey led them through the hallway and into the room on the left. It was decorated in a deep red shade with gleaming wooden panelling and a heavy desk opposite the door. A door with a numeric keypad and a shining red light was to the left of the desk, and Lacey frowned for a moment before tapping out a six-digit sequence. After a moment of blind panic in which she worried that the code had been changed, a beep sounded and the light turned green. She pushed at the door, opening it up and revealing a small, windowless room beyond. Her scrabbling hand found the light switch and flicked it on.“Here,” she said. “Guns, ammo, all the accessories you could want.”Mulan stepped past her into the room and glanced around, eyes flicking left to right. She nodded curtly.“This’ll do nicely,” she said. “Merida? Help me carry these up to the library reading nook. I think that’s the best place to stash the weapons. Gives us access to the library and the hallway.”“We should keep some in the lookout point too,” said Merida. “Did you say that was on the third floor, Lacey?”“I’ll take you up here in a minute,” said Lacey.“Okay, let’s get on with moving this crap, then.”
Mulan started stacking boxes of ammunition, and Lacey took a deep breath.“I really appreciate this, you know,” she said. “You’re putting yourselves in danger all because of me, and - and I’m sorry. There’s no way I can ever repay you. Any of you.”
“Don’t be daft,” said Merida, not unkindly. “Not your fault your family sucks.”
“Besides,” added Mulan. “We’d never hear the end of it if this asshole managed to get himself shot defending your honour.” She shoved Weaver, making him curl his lip at her.
“Best way to keep him out of a hospital bed and avoid months of his bitching is to help you, right?” said Merida. “Sounds like a win-win, if you ask me.”“I’ll remind both of you that you insisted on coming with me,” said Weaver, his tone flat. “And that I said it wasn’t necessary.”“Thinks he’s immortal, that’s the trouble,” said Merida cheerfully. “We’d rather not put that to the test.”Lacey gave them a tremulous smile.“Well, I don’t want any of you to get hurt,” she said. “I feel guilty enough about all this as it is.”“By the end of all this, there’ll be a bunch of dead gangsters,” said Mulan. “Counts as a good day at work for us.”She turned back to the pile of ammunition she was making, and Merida opened the drawer of a cabinet.“Silencers in here,” she observed. “Should fit the pistols. Laser sights, too, for the rifles. This’ll work.”“Take it all,” said Mulan.“I’ll leave you two to get on with that, if you don’t mind,” said Weaver. “I’m going to call Nolan, check on Tilly.”Lacey turned quickly, catching his eye.“Oh, can we?” she asked. “God, I miss her so much!”“Come on,” he said, putting an arm around her shoulders. “Let’s go and call her.”Lacey nodded, and leaned against his side as they made their way downstairs and out of the back door into the cold morning air. She stayed leaning against him as he fished out his phone, closing her eyes and breathing in the scent of him, taking strength from the solid heat of his body against hers.“Hey, Nolan.”
Weaver’s voice made her glance up. She could see the edge of his jaw, where stubble was starting to show on his chin, the curve of his lip where the white mist of his breath billowed out into the air. She let her head rest against his shoulder with a sigh, wishing it was all over and they could go home.“Everything okay?” he asked then, and Lacey looked up again.“All quiet,” she heard Nolan say. “Kids just woke up. No sign of anyone following us when we drove down, I think we’re safe.”“Keep an eye out, all the same,” said Weaver, pressing the speaker icon.“Of course.” Nolan’s voice echoed out into the air. He sounded weary, as though they had had this same conversation many times. “How are things with you?”“We’re expecting company,” said Weaver dryly. “I doubt we’ll enjoy the visit, but I don’t expect they’ll be here for long, so there’s that.”Lacey shivered at the ominous tone to his voice, and Nolan seemed to take his meaning immediately.“You got enough - company with you?” he asked.“Yeah. Couple of annoying lesbians turned up.”Nolan snorted in amusement.“Well, those two certainly have a reputation for dealing with unwanted house guests,” he said. “I guess it could be worse.”
“I believe I have you to thank for that.”“You’re welcome.”Weaver grunted.“Thank you,” he said sincerely. “Sometimes I need to be told what’s best for me.”“Is this you admitting I was right and you were wrong?”“Don’t get used to it.”Nolan chuckled.“Look, I have someone here tugging on my leg wanting breakfast, and I’m sure she’s desperate to speak to you,” he said. “Want me to put her on?”Weaver smiled broadly.“Please.”There was a scrabbling noise, and Lacey shared a grin with Weaver.“Hello?” Tilly chirped, and Lacey felt her heart clench.“Hey, sweetie!” she said brightly. “Are you having fun with Uncle David and Auntie Snow?”“Yeah!” said Tilly. “We got milkshakes! And played on the beach! And we’re gonna play with Wilby and build a campfire!”“That sounds cool!” said Lacey. “I miss you, baby.”“I miss you, too,” said Tilly. “Are you and Daddy gonna come here? Auntie Snow makes waffles!”“That sounds so good,” said Lacey, biting her lip. “We’ll come as soon as we can, I promise. Daddy and I just have a few things to do, okay?”“Okay,” said Tilly, unconcerned. “I love you.”Lacey squeezed her eyes shut, throat starting to ache with the tears she wanted to shed.“I love you too, sweetheart.”“We love you, and we miss you,” added Weaver. “We’ll see you soon.”“Okay.”Lacey shared a glance with Weaver, and licked her lips.“Tilly, when we get home, Daddy’s gonna live with us again,” she said. “We’re all going to be together as a family, okay? You were right, I was mean for making him live in that little apartment.”“Daddy’s gonna live with us again?” Tilly’s voice went high with excitement. “Really? You promise?”“I promise, baby.” “Yay!” she squeaked, and Lacey felt like bursting into tears. Weaver put a reassuring arm around her, squeezing.“You sound as excited as I am,” he remarked.“It’s better than - than rainbows and unicorns and - and Christmas!” announced Tilly, and he chuckled.“I’ll remind you of that on Christmas Eve,” he said. “Is Dragon taking care of you?”“He guards us at night,” Tilly assured him. “Dragon and Wilby take turns.”“Good,” he said. “Put your Uncle David back on, okay?”“Okay. I love you.”“Love you too, princess.”Weaver shared a smile with Lacey, whose lower lip was trembling a little. He reached out to take her hand, and she leaned against him with a sigh.“Weaver.” Nolan’s voice came out of the phone. “Anything else you need from us?”“Just keep her safe,” said Weaver. “Keep yourselves safe, too. I’ll call when it’s over.”“Okay.” Nolan hesitated. “Good luck.” We’ll need it.“Thanks. Give my best to Snow.”“Sure thing.”He rang off, and Weaver slipped the phone back into his pocket, eyeing Lacey.“Well,” he said. “At least we know she’s safe.”Lacey nodded, feeling tears well up inside her. She wanted to hold Tilly close and tell her everything was going to be better in the future. She wanted to take her home and curl up in bed with Weaver spooned around the pair of them. If she had been one to pray, she would have been on her knees begging for them all to make it home safely so they could start over.“I’m so sorry I pushed you away,” she said thickly, wiping her eyes. “I’ve screwed everything up.”“Hey.” His voice was gentle, and he put his hands on her shoulders, his touch grounding her as his eyes sought hers. “You were scared. Scared people do stupid things.”“Well, I’m tired of being scared,” she said, dashing away tears with her thumbs. “Tired of running and hiding and looking over my shoulder. It’s time this ended.”“It will,” he said grimly. “I’ll finish it for you, Lacey. I promise. I’ll make sure you and Tilly are safe and that we’re together. You’ll never have to live that life again, I swear.”He was staring at her earnestly, but there was a darkness in his gaze that made her shiver a little even as it reassured her. Her husband was a dangerous man, in a world of dangerous men, and she was in no doubt that he would do whatever it took to keep his family safe. She nodded, sniffing a little, and he leaned in to kiss her forehead.“Come on,” he said gently. “Let’s go and check on Fa and Dunbroch. They should have stashed all those weapons by now.”She nodded, turning back towards the house and slipping an arm around his waist as they walked in step. The day was cold, frost riming the evergreen bushes bordering the rose garden. Soon it would be Christmas. She hoped by then they would all be together, safe and happy, with this whole terrible episode only a distant memory.Merida and Mulan turned up just as they were entering the kitchen, and Mrs Potts paused in kneading bread to announce that she would make more tea. Merida waved her off and went to fill the kettle, and Lacey sat down at the table with a sigh. Weaver’s hand was a warm, comforting weight on her thigh.“All the weapons are stowed,” said Mulan. “We set up kind of a barricade on that library landing. Should be okay for the two of us. What about you, Weaver?”“I haven’t decided yet,” he said. “I’d like to go over the house again, make sure we haven’t left ourselves open anywhere.”“We have to think about the aftermath, too,” said Mulan. “Assuming we come out of this alive, there’ll be some explaining to do to the local cops. And the Feds’ll probably get involved, given the notoriety of Lacey’s folks.”“If we kill them, there needs to be at least an element of self-defence,” agreed Weaver. “It’s a shame this is their house, or we could—”Lacey sat up, making him cut off.“Actually, it isn’t,” she said, and he frowned.“It’s not?”“It’s my grandmother’s house,” she said. “Oh, they’ve been using it, but technically it’s not my father’s house. I guess it would have come to my mother in time, but she died, and my father remarried. As far as I know when my grandfather died, the house went to Grandma. And Grandma’s still alive.”“So…” Weaver hesitated, “so when she dies, what happens to the house?”“I don’t know,” she admitted. “I think the only person that would know other than her lawyer would be Cogsworth. She relied on him a lot before she got so ill.”She glanced at Mrs Potts.“I don’t suppose he said anything to you, did he?” she asked, and Mrs Potts shook her head.“I didn’t ask,” she said. “He mentioned that you hadn’t accessed any of the money that Mrs d’Avonlea put aside for you, but other than that he didn’t tell me about any other arrangements she’d made.”“Right,” said Weaver, and sucked his teeth, eyeing Lacey. “I think you should talk to him.”“You heard what I said about him being terrified of my father, right?” she said.“Oh, he doesn’t have to know the rest of us are here,” said Weaver easily. “Go talk to him, find out what the situation with the house is.”Lacey pursed her lips, looking him up and down.“You’re looking like you just thought of something clever,” she observed, and he grinned.“Time will tell.”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Once Mrs Potts had prepared it, Lacey took a tray with tea, buttered toast and a slice of fruit cake up to Cogsworth’s room, which was tucked under the eaves at the back of the house. She was shocked to see him looking old and drawn, his jowls sagging and his eyes hollow, though they widened when he saw her, a smile breaking across his face.
“You stay in bed right now!” she chided, when he tried to get up to greet her.He settled back against the pillows with a sigh that developed into a fit of coughing, and he jerked forward, striped pyjamas stretching across his shoulders as he coughed into cupped hands. It seemed to take what little energy he had, and he fell back against the pillows again, closing his eyes and gasping for breath. Lacey set the tray on the nightstand, reaching over to feel his forehead.“You’re burning up,” she said. “Mrs Potts said you had the flu. How long have you been like this?”“Oh, I’ll be alright, Miss,” he said, his voice a little hoarse. “Settled in my chest, that’s all. I’ll be right as rain before you know it.”“Yeah, well, you’re staying in bed for now,” she said firmly. “You look as though you haven’t slept in days.”“Blasted cough keeps me awake,” he said, but patted her hand. “You coming to see us is a comfort though, Miss Belle. It must have been years since you were last here, but you’re just the same!”Lacey felt her smile wobble a little.“Oh, I’m not so sure about that,” she said. “But it’s good to see you and Mrs Potts again. Grandma seems - worse.”Cogsworth sighed, letting his head roll back against the pillows as he nodded.“It’s good that you came back,” he said gently. “I fear it won’t be too long before she leaves us entirely. Dr Whale is - not confident that she’ll see out the year.”“Well, I’m sorry to hear that,” said Lacey quietly. “Really I am. I wish I could have spoken to her one last time, and had her understand me.”“Perhaps she can.”“Yeah, maybe.” She doubted it. “Have - have any arrangements been made? You know, for the end?”Cogsworth nodded,“She made all the arrangements years ago, while she still could,” he said. “Everything’s in place. Nothing for you to concern yourself with.”“Right.” Lacey reached out to pour the tea, adding a little milk and handing him the cup and saucer. “Uh - what’s going to happen to the house?”“Ah.” He took a sip of tea. “Well. That all depends on you.”“Me?”“Yes.” He took another sip, smacking his lips in appreciation. “An excellent cup of tea. I haven’t been able to taste anything for days, so perhaps I’m getting better.”“Good, but you’re still staying in bed.” Lacey waited for a moment, and when he said nothing further, added: “you were telling me about the house?”“Oh! Yes, Mrs d’Avonlea had me sitting in while she spoke to her lawyer,” he said. “You had gone missing some months earlier, but she wanted you to have it. The house, her jewellery - everything.”“Oh.” Lacey felt oddly numb. “Really?”“She always hoped you’d turn up again,” he said. “The lawyer told her that she needed to plan for an alternative, in case you didn’t. In the end she had a clause written into the will that if you couldn’t be found within ten years of her death, the estate was to go to the charities she supported. I have her instructions.”“So there’s no chance of the place going to my father?” she asked, and Cogsworth snorted.“No, she was very clear on that score,” he said.“Does he know?”Cogsworth hesitated.“I - I have to confess he hasn’t said anything to me directly concerning the estate,” he said delicately. “I think perhaps your grandfather may have given him some assurances while he was alive and - well, he hasn’t asked me himself. I’ve only discussed the issue with Mrs d'Avonlea and her lawyer. She may have left him some small legacy, of course, but the bulk of the estate went to you as far as I know.”“Good,” said Lacey. “Uh - I mean, it’s good that she was able to make her own decisions. Although honestly I’m not sure what I would ever do with a place this huge.”Cogsworth smiled, and reached for one of the pieces of toast, taking a bite and chewing. She looked down at her hands, folded in her lap, the fingers interlaced.“She instructed me to keep transferring money to your account,” he went on, making her look up. “I - I never told her that you weren’t using it. I think it gave her some comfort to think she was helping you.”“She was,” said Lacey softly. “Just by caring, she was.”There was a moment of silence, and she ducked her head again.“How long will you stay with us?” he asked, and Lacey shrugged.“I’m not sure,” she said. “And I don’t want you worrying about me or Grandma or anything else, okay? You just concentrate on staying in bed and getting better.”“If you insist.”“And don’t worry if you hear noises in the house, either,” she added. “Mrs Potts and I might be moving some furniture, so there could be banging and shouting, but you’re to stay here, right?
Promise me.”“As you wish, my Lady,” he said gravely, and Lacey sent him a wobbly smile.“If only all wishes came true as easily, huh?”Cogsworth smiled, nodding a little wearily.“I wish you had had a happier life,” he said, and she sighed.“Yeah.”There was a moment of silence. She ached to tell him about how her life had changed. About Weaver, and Tilly.“I wish I hadn’t stayed away so long,” she added. “I wish Grandma hadn’t gotten so sick. I wish a lot of things hadn’t happened.”She ducked her head again, her shoulders hunching, and his hand covered hers, mottled skin and thick fingers, the veins pushing up in deep blue tracks.“It will all be over soon, my dear,” he said gently.“Yeah,” said Lacey quietly. “I guess it will.”Weaver went through his notes once again, tapping his pencil on the notebook as he tried to think of anything he had forgotten. Planning for a stand-off was a very different affair to planning a dawn raid on a nest of drug dealers, and he was grateful that Fa and Dunbroch had decided to tag along. Relief at their presence warred with anxiety over the risks to their safety, worry that one or both of them would be hurt. That history would repeat itself, and that he would be responsible for the injury of a partner once again. A clatter of boots on the stairs made him look up, and Lacey bounced into the room, looking somewhat agitated. He pushed to his feet immediately, his heart thumping in trepidation, but she shook her head.“Relax, there’s no impending battle,” she said impatiently. “I just saw Cogsworth. He - he says Grandma’s leaving everything to me.”Weaver blinked.“Everything?” he repeated. “Including the house?”She nodded.“All of - of this,” she said, throwing her arms wide. “What the hell am I supposed to do with this? We live in a two-bed!”Weaver shrugged.“Well, we did say we wanted to look for something bigger.”
“Rafe!”
“I’m kidding.”
He reached out to her, grasping her hand and pulling her to him, and Lacey fell against his chest with a sigh. He felt her body sag against his, and he folded his arms around her, kissing the top of her head and breathing in the scent of her.“We’ll think about that later,” he said quietly. “Right now it works in our favour. Your grandmother owns this house and she’s left it to you. That means your father and stepmother have no claim. And it means we can shut them out.”Lacey looked up, a curious light in her eyes.“Change the locks?” she said sarcastically. “That’s your big plan? You think that’ll keep them out?”“No,” he said. “But it means they’ll have to break in.”She straightened up, pushing back from him, a look of dawning realisation on her face.“So that’s our self-defence point, right?” she said. “We let them know they’re not welcome, and if they break in, we can - uh - fight back?”“Exactly,” he said grimly. “So we need a locksmith.”“I’ll call Walter up from the town,” said Mrs Potts, walking through from the pantry and wiping her hands on her apron. “He’s very adept at locks. Did an excellent job with the stables.”“Good.” Weaver tucked the notebook into his pocket. “I’m going to take a walk around the outside of the house, check out any weak spots, anything we need to be aware of.”Lacey nodded, and he kissed her brow again, pulling away and squeezing her hand one last time before heading for the door. She watched him go, love for him surging through her, and Mrs Potts stepped up by her side, putting a comforting hand on her shoulder.“He seems like a good man,” she said, and Lacey nodded.“Yeah,” she said softly. “He’s the best man I’ve ever known.”“And he seems to love you very much,” Mrs Potts added, and Lacey smiled sadly.“Yeah, he does,” she said. “And I’ve brought him nothing but trouble, ever since the day we met.”“D’you think that’s how he sees it?”“How could he not?” sighed Lacey, slumping into a chair. “Because of me he’s had to chase me to the other side of the country and prepare for a - a bloody gun battle - and I have no idea if we’ll all make it out the other side! Because of me he could get hurt! He - he could die! I don’t think I could ever forgive myself if that happened.”Mrs Potts shook her head, and reached out to grasp her hand.“Now, you listen to me,” she said firmly. “I’ve only known the man for a day, but it seems to me that he’d crawl over broken glass and fight tooth and nail to keep you safe. You’re not a burden to him. To anyone.”Lacey sighed, running her hands over her face.“God, I just want this to be over!” she said, with feeling. “What if they don’t come? What if we’re just left here for weeks, waiting?”“Then I’ll get the chance to feed you up,” said Mrs Potts briskly. “Looks as though you both need it.”Lacey laughed at that, a fragile, broken laugh that was almost a sob, and Mrs Potts patted her shoulder fondly.“Things’ll turn out all right in the end, Miss,” she said. “Now sit down. There’s nothing so bad a nice cup of tea won’t fix it.”Mrs Potts was true to her word, and Walter arrived within the hour to change the locks. Weaver and the others stayed out of sight, but Lacey watched him work, a taciturn man with a sleepy expression in his eyes. The house had four exterior doors: one at the front and back, and one on each of the wings. He handed over the new keys when he was done, waving away Mrs Potts’ offer of coffee but accepting the generous tip that Lacey gave him.“Good strong locks, Miss Schwartz,” he said. “Would take a hell of a lot of force to break in, I promise you. You’ll be safe now.”“Thank you,” said Lacey, wishing she believed it. “I’m very grateful. Can’t be too careful these days.”Walter made a noise of agreement, touched his forehead in an odd sort of half-salute, and sauntered off back to his truck. The sound of his engine faded into the distance, and Lacey sighed, slumping against the kitchen wall.“All set?” Weaver’s voice from the doorway made her turn, and she nodded.“Now we wait,” she said bleakly. “I just wish I knew how long for.”He was watching her, an intense look in his eyes that seemed to be caught somewhere between worry for her and barely-restrained violence towards those who would harm her.
“Merida and I had an idea,” he said. “I think that when they come, you should face them down from the balcony that looks out over the front of the house.”“Me?” she said nervously. “Why?”“We said we wanted to make sure they knew they weren’t welcome,” he said. “What better way than telling them directly? Where everyone can hear?”Lacey swallowed hard at the thought of standing by herself and telling her family to go fuck themselves. God, it’s past time, isn’t it? “Okay,” she said. “I - I guess I could do that.”“We can take some of the spotlights from the roof,” he added. “Set them behind you. Light the place up so you can see exactly who’s there and what they’re doing.”“Okay.” She shifted her feet. “But they’ll see me too, right?”“Yes,” he said quietly. “And I wouldn’t suggest it if I thought it would put you in danger. Can you do it?”She hesitated only slightly before nodding, and he smiled briefly.
“I’ll get Merida to help me set up,” he said. “Can you ask Mrs Potts to make more coffee?”After all the preparations were made, they spent a tense, nervous afternoon and evening. Mrs Potts made a simple supper of pan-fried spiced chicken and flatbread, but Weaver ate little, his body tense and ready, alert to any sound that might mean their unwelcome visitors had arrived. Merida was taking her turn to watch the road from the third floor window, and Lacey had gone to take Cogsworth some tea and toast. He picked at the chicken on his plate, eyeing Mulan, who seemed to have no loss of appetite and was steadily working her way through a second helping of chicken. There was a plate of cookies on the table, and she popped the last piece of bread into her mouth, wiped her fingers on a napkin and reached for a cookie. Weaver dropped his flatbread on his plate, pushing it away.“We should call Merida down,” he said. “She didn’t have dinner yet.”“I’ll take her something to eat,” said Mulan. “And some coffee. If they don’t turn up soon it could be a long night keeping watch.”“I can take it in turns with the two of you, you know,” he said, and she shrugged.“Suit yourself. Next shift change is at midnight.”“In that case I’ll take the night shift, let you two get some rest.”“I suppose that’s my cue to make sure there are beds ready for you,” said Mrs Potts briskly.“One bed will do just fine,” said Mulan, and Mrs Potts hesitated only momentarily before smiling and nodding.“I’ll put you in the room near Miss Belle,” she said. “It’s got a lovely view of the gardens.”She bustled out, and Mulan reached over to take another cookie.“I like her,” she said.“I’d certainly far rather she was on our side than theirs,” remarked Weaver, and Mulan chuckled, popping the cookie into her mouth and crunching it down. She followed it with a gulp of coffee, and set down her cup.“How did it go with the lighting rig?” she asked. “Everything ready for Lacey’s grand debut?”Weaver nodded, taking a sip of his coffee.“I set them on each side, facing out towards the front of the house,” he said. “I want the light behind her when she faces her father.”“Quite the show we’re planning,” remarked Mulan, arms folded. “Not like you. I thought you preferred a more subtle approach.”“This needs to be overt,” he said tersely. “And it’s not me putting on the show. It’s Lacey. With any luck they won’t even realise I’m here until it’s too late.”“I still say it would be safer if we all hid inside and waited for them to come to us.”“Perhaps,” he agreed. “But I think she needs to do this.”“Closure on a shitty family, I get it,” she said, leaning back. “You sure she’ll go through with it? That kind of crap can be hard to break away from.”“I can do it.” Lacey’s voice made them glance around. She was standing in the doorway, arms clamped around herself as though she was freezing, her shoulders hunched. “I can do it. I promise.”Mulan’s eyes softened.“You don’t have to,” she said gently. “You could stay down here in the kitchen and let us take care of it.”Lacey shook her head firmly, raising her chin.“I can do it,” she said. “Rafe is right, I - I need to do it.”“And we’ll be with you every step of the way,” he said.He reached out to her, and she sent him a wobbly smile, taking his hand and letting him pull her closer. She slid onto his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck and burying her face between his neck and shoulder with a heavy sigh.“I’m glad you’re here,” she said, in a muffled voice.“Just you, me, and the annoying lesbians against the world,” he said, and she giggled as Mulan snorted. Lacey pushed upright, grinning.“Pretty sure Mrs Potts should get credit, too,” she said. “I think—”Whatever she was about to say was interrupted by the sound of running feet. The door burst open, and Merida stuck her head through, red curls bouncing as her hand grasped the door frame to stop her momentum.
“Just picked up the tracker signal!” she said urgently. “They’re coming!”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Lacey’s heart was thumping high in her throat as she hurried to the balcony that overlooked the front of the house. Mulan and Merida had peeled off to the sides when they reached the top of the staircase, and were huddled in place with their guns and a decent view of the front door. Lacey’s hands shook as she opened the double glass doors that led to the balcony, but Weaver was at her back, so close she could almost feel his breath on her skin. It gave her a little courage, and she threw the doors wide open. It was dark outside, and cold, and Lacey shivered as she stepped out.
The stone balustrade was covered with a dusting of snow, and she pushed her fingers through it to feel the cold stone beneath as she looked out over the gravel driveway towards the road that led to town. Through the dark mass of trees she could see points of light heading closer, and she licked her lips nervously as they turned into headlight beams, sweeping around the final bend in the road.
There were two cars, both large Mercedes in shining black and chrome, and the gravel crunched as they drew to a stop outside the garage, beside the narrow passage that led to the kitchens at the rear of the house.“You alright?”
Weaver’s voice made her start, and she glanced over her shoulder to where he was leaning in the doorway.“I’m fine,” she lied. “You ready to get the lights?”He nodded, pushing away from the door frame and heading inside, and Lacey took a deep breath, watching the car doors open and the occupants step out and walk towards the front door. There were eight in total, and in addition to Felix she recognised three of them: her father, Fiona and Azurine. All three come to drag her back to Nevada. They may as well try dragging me to hell! I won’t go!
“Okay.” She heard her father growl the word, and something inside her cowered at the sound of his voice. “Let’s get inside, I’m freezing my balls off.”“We’d better check the place out first.” That was Felix’s voice. “I told you she had a gun.”Moe Schwartz snorted.“I won’t be kept out of my own house by a slip of a girl,” he said. “She doesn’t have the guts to shoot me. Out of the way.”She heard him try the doors. There was a moment of silence, then he rattled them.“What the hell… Fiona, did you give me the wrong bloody keys?”Lacey glanced back towards the doorway.“Now, Rafe!” she whispered, and turned to face the front once more.Light poured out, warm on the back of her neck. It spilled across the snow-covered driveway, lighting up the eight figures that stood there and throwing long shadows behind them that stretched off towards the darkness. Lacey stood very straight and still, her chin raised. Her knees were trembling a little, her heart thumping hard, and she gripped the edge of the balustrade, the stone as cold and smooth as ice beneath her fingers.“Isabelle!” Her father’s voice was harsh. “That you? About bloody time you showed your face! Get your arse down here! What the hell do you think you’re playing at?”Her mind was briefly assaulted with unwelcome images from the past, freed from the depths of her mind by the sound of his voice and given black, leathery wings to fly free. Lacey licked her lips, shoving the visions away.“You’re not welcome here,” she said clearly. “My grandmother is very sick, and she needs peace and quiet. I want you all to leave her property.”There was a moment of silence.“What the fuck are you talking about?” he snapped. “And what’s up with the bloody doors? Where’s Cogsworth?”“He has the flu,” she said. “And I changed the locks. I told you, you’re not welcome here. Go back to Vegas.”She was trying not to look directly at him, concentrating on a point just over his shoulder, but she could sense his venomous glare, his nostrils flaring.
“If you don’t come down here and unlock these doors right fucking now, I swear I’ll give you the thrashing of your life when I get my hands on you!”“Not much of an incentive, is it?”
It was the first time she had felt safe enough to talk back to her father, and there was an exhilarating sense of freedom in it, an almost giddy high in watching his face darken with rage. He had changed little in the years she had been gone. A little fatter, a little balder, but those same flat, expressionless eyes and the twist to his mouth that showed his fury and disappointment. Fiona reached out then, putting a hand on his arm and stepping forward. She flicked back her dark hair and gave Lacey a red-painted grimace of a smile.“Really Isabelle, this is extremely tiresome behaviour,” she said. “Making us travel all the way to Maine to deal with you. You know how I hate the winter here.”“So go back to Vegas,” said Lacey. “You’re not wanted here, I told you.”“We’ll leave as soon as you agree to accompany us,” she said. “Come down, and we’ll talk about it.”“I’m not going anywhere with you,” said Lacey. “Now get off this property!”“You can’t throw me out of my own house!” roared Moe.“It’s not yours, it’s Grandma’s!” she countered. “You never owned this place, you just fucking squatted here like a - a big bloated spider, making your deals and ruining lives!”“When I get my hands on you…” He shook his head, his mouth twisting. “Ungrateful little shit that you are. After everything I’ve given you, you betray me like this?”“Yeah, you would see me standing up for myself as a betrayal. Your way or the highway, right?”“Being a Schwartz means loyalty to the family above all else!”“Well, I’m not a fucking Schwartz, I’m Lacey Weaver!” she snapped.“Changing your name doesn’t change what you are,” he said roughly. “You’re Isabelle Schwartz. You’re my daughter, more’s the fucking pity! What did I try to teach you about the importance of family, Belle? Seems it went in one ear on that dumb head of yours and out the other!”“Oh, you taught me plenty,” said Lacey, her voice shaking. “How to dodge. How to hide. How to disappear.”Moe grunted.“Well, you’ve led us a fine dance these past years, I’ll give you that,” he said. “But your time’s up.”“Just - go back to Vegas and leave me with Grandma!” she said tremulously. “I did what you asked, I gave you what you wanted, just leave me alone!”“What I wanted?” His voice was cold. “What I wanted was obedience. Loyalty. A daughter I could pass the family business on to. A daughter who wouldn’t stab me in the back and run away!”“And what about what I wanted?” she blurted.“Never any ambition, that was your problem,” he sneered. “After everything I’ve given you - money, status, power! Everything you could possibly want on a fucking plate!”“I don’t want it!” she said sharply. “I never did! Find someone else to run your bloody murder empire and leave me alone!”“Softhearted!” he spat, lip curling. “You’re as bad as your mother! Marrying a bloody detective was the final insult!”“I just wanted a normal life!” she insisted. “That’s all! Why can’t you just let me go?”
“So everyone can talk behind my back about how my stupid daughter made a fool of me?” he said coldly. “I don’t think so, my girl. You’re coming back to Vegas with us if I have to drag you out!”Lacey licked her lips, trying to remember what Weaver had told her.“Are - are you telling me you’re gonna kidnap me?” she asked, her voice warbling a little. “I told you to get off this property! Are you really gonna break in and kidnap me?”“I’ll tie you hand and foot if I have to!” he shouted.“If - if you break in here I’ll defend myself!” she declared. “I’m warning you! Any - any intruders may be met with deadly force!”Maurice laughed coldly.“By you?” he said disbelievingly. “You don’t have the guts to shoot anyone, you never did!”“Well, if I call the police, maybe they’ll do it for me,” she said. “I told you I’m not going with you!”He stepped forward, fists opening and closing.“If you don’t open this door it won’t just be you who suffers, I promise you that,” he rasped. “Anyone who helps you will have betrayed me, understand?”
“This has nothing to do with anyone else!” she said sharply, and he let out a cold laugh.“Yeah, softhearted to a fault,” he said, his voice dripping with disgust. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised you never showed up here before. You knew the bloody rules, which is why you hid yourself away so well. You knew how this would end.”Lacey tried to swallow down her rising terror, her heart hammering in her chest.“I’m calling the sheriff!” she said, her voice high and trembling. “Get off this property!”She ducked back inside, slamming the windows shut, and heard her father bellowing at his men to open the doors.
“Good girl.” Weaver’s voice made her turn. “Now go and hide.”His face was grim, his eyes dark, and he had already drawn his gun. She licked her lips nervously, but he gave her a reassuring smile.“I’ll be alright,” he said. “We won’t let those bastards harm a single hair on your head, understand?”The front doors rattled and banged, and there was the sound of gunshots. Lacey squeaked and ran for the library, spotting Mulan and Merida in their positions on either side of the staircase. She heard the crash as the doors opened, and shrieked, ducking instinctively as shots rang out and ragged cries echoed along the corridors.“Fuck!” That was her father. “Felix, get around the back! Fiona, Azurine, get back to town!”Lacey put on a burst of speed, almost slamming into the library doors before she got one open and slipped inside. She raced up the stairs and jumped behind the barricade of bookcases that Merida had set up, breathing heavily as she listened to distant gunshots and the sound of running feet. The squeak of the door told her that someone had entered.“She ran this way, boss.” A rough voice, one she didn’t know.“Flush her out, then!” growled Moe. “Kill everyone else, but I want her alive!”“Sir.”Lacey peered cautiously around the edge of the bookshelf, watching her father start to pace as the man with him prowled the stacks of books, gun in hand. Moe was visibly enraged, one fist opening and closing as the other gripped his gun. He stopped dead, and Lacey shifted to the side, where a gap between the bookcases gave her a tiny view of what was going on below. The gunfire had stopped, and she was desperate to know whether Weaver and the others were unhurt, but she didn’t dare to move. She heard the doors open, and the sound of heeled shoes, and Fiona and Azurine entered, both looking furious.“I thought I told you to get back to town!” snapped Moe.“We’d love to, I’m sure,” said Azurine levelly. “Unfortunately someone appears to have let down the rear tires on both cars.”Lacey almost laughed out loud. Mrs Potts, you badass! “Jones and Black are dead,” added Fiona. “James decided to chase the shooters. So he’s probably dead too.”“How many people does she have fighting for her in this fucking place?” demanded Moe.“I saw two women,” said Fiona. “One dark-haired, one redhead. Really, it’s quite impressive the damage they’ve managed to do.”Moe grunted, and gestured at the heavyset man still searching through the stacks.“Anything?”“Nothing, boss.”He glared, turning on his heel and looking around.“Belle!” he shouted. “I know you’re in here! You’ve signed the death warrants of everyone in this house, do you understand me?”Fiona pursed her lips, hands on hips as she scanned the room. Her eyes lifted, and Lacey sucked in a breath as she seemed to stare right at her hiding place.“Well,” she said. “If she’s not down here, then she must be up there.”Lacey froze, and Moe glared upwards with narrowed eyes.“Paul, get up there.”Paul nodded tersely, raising his gun, and headed for the steps. Lacey glanced around frantically, wondering whether she could reach the doorway in time. Just then the door burst open and Merida stuck an arm in, beckoning to her and ducking as a bullet whined past her to bury itself in the panelling. She raised her gun and fired back, and there was a loud curse from below. Merida quickly ducked behind the shelving barricade and jerked her head at the door.“It’s clear, go!” she shouted, and Lacey ducked low and ran.She headed across the landing and down the stairs, trying to ignore the bodies sprawled in the hallway and the spreading pools of blood. Two of the bodyguards were down, which left six enemies. She sprinted along the corridor that led to the rear of the house, skidding to a halt as she saw a body slumped at the end, legs sprawled across the floor. Blood had spattered the wall behind, smeared downwards in a thick trail, and the man beneath it was unmoving. She paused, uncertain, chewing her lip as she wondered whether it was safe to get past. Whether he was really dead.Too late, she picked up the soft sound of footsteps, and before she could move, an arm went around her throat. She shrieked, clawing at her captor, trying to struggle free. The arm tightened, cutting off her scream, and she could feel hot breath on her ear as the other arm pinned her arms to her body.“None of us knew you had company when we busted in here.” Felix’s lazy drawl sounded almost amused. “That was sneaky. Maybe the apple doesn’t fall too far from the tree after all.”She clutched at his arm, fingers scrabbling, lack of air making her head swim.“From what I saw, looks like two women and one man,” he added. “That the detective? How much d’you think Mr Schwartz will pay me for killing him?”Lacey kicked back with her heel in desperation, scraping his shin. He swore loudly, but his grip only tightened. Black spots were swimming in her vision.“I heard you two broke up,” he said, between his teeth. “Guess you managed to patch things up, huh? Kinda sweet when you think about it. They say trauma can really bring people together. Maybe the two of you can share a grave—”A heavy clang cut him off, and the arm around her throat loosened and fell away. Lacey staggered forward, gasping, her skin tingling. There was a thump from behind her, and she turned to see Felix face-down on the floor and Mrs Potts holding a heavy frying pan in both hands, glaring at him.“Follow me, Miss Belle,” she said firmly, and scuttled off, still carrying the pan.Lacey followed, flinching at the sound of gunfire as they headed for the kitchens.“I called the Sheriff,” announced Mrs Potts over her shoulder. “Explained what was happening, the threats they made, the weapons they have. He’s on his way and has called the next town over for backup. They’ll be here very soon.”“I think there’s only three left,” said Lacey, as they entered the kitchen, and she nodded firmly.“And we’ll sit tight in here until it’s done,” she said. “That man of yours is very useful in a crisis, I must say. And the two girls are crack shots.”She gave Lacey’s hand a comforting pat, and Lacey let out a somewhat panicked giggle. Mrs Potts set the frying pan down on the workbench next to her, seeming to sag as she let out a relieved sigh.“I’m not used to running around the place like this,” she said. “I do hope Cogsworth doesn’t come to investigate all the noise.”“I told him to stay in bed, no matter what he heard,” said Lacey. “Hopefully he’s too sick to be curious.”Mrs Potts sniffed, hands on hips.“Well, they’ve made a real mess out there,” she said. “It’ll be the devil of a job, cleaning up all that blood.”Lacey’s laugh was a little frantic.“I’ll help.”Weaver pressed himself back against the wall, the shadow of a large dresser providing him with cover as he listened. The gunfire had stopped, and if his calculations were correct, only Lacey’s father and stepmother were left standing. As he had sprinted along one of the corridors, he had passed Felix sprawled on the floor, face down. No blood that he could see, though. Perhaps he was still alive. He had taken out two of the bodyguards himself, Fa and Dunbroch taking the others, along with the woman in the blue dress. He was lucky they had been watching his back; he hadn’t heard the woman sneaking closer until Fa had fired her weapon. Getting old and careless, he thought. I should really think about retiring. Take Lacey and Tilly out of the city and stop trying to get myself fucking killed. He put thoughts of retiring out of his mind at the sound of a gruff male voice, faint at first, but drawing closer. Lacey’s father.“Fiona, meet me out back, we’re getting the fuck out of here!”
No. No you’re not.
“I don’t care, we’ll walk back to town if we have to! Go through the kitchens. One of these fuckers must have a car.”The sound of heavy footsteps drew closer. Moe Schwartz was breathing heavily, his pace rapid.
“Drag Belle with you if you can,” he added. “Shoot her if you can’t.”Rage flared to life in Weaver, a white-hot surge of fury, and he gripped his gun tight, pushing away from the wall and whipping around to face his foe, arms outstretched. Moe had a fraction of a second to look shocked before he fired. The force of the bullet in his chest knocked him off his feet and onto his back, and Weaver hurried over, gun trained on him, aiming between the eyes. Maurice appeared to be winded, gasping for breath, but there was no blood, and Weaver suspected the man wore a bullet-proof vest. He supposed running an organised crime gang meant that assassination attempts were an occupational hazard. He was staring at Weaver, narrow eyes dark with rage as he dropped his phone and reached for his gun.“Who the fuck are you?” he wheezed, and Weaver gave a cold smile.“The worst son-in-law in fucking history,” he said, and pulled the trigger.The sound of a gunshot made Lacey jump. It had come from the floor above, the narrow corridors above the kitchens that led to one of the smaller studies and the servants’ quarters. Another shot was fired, and she gave Mrs Potts a worried look.“D’you think they’re okay?” she asked. “It must be over, surely.”“Don’t you worry, Miss Belle,” said Mrs Potts. “Everything’s going to be just fine.”“I think not.”A familiar voice from the doorway made Lacey’s blood run cold. Fiona was standing with a gun in her hand, glaring at her. Mrs Potts bustled forward, fists clenched as though she could stop bullets with the sheer force of her indignation.
“You get out of here!” she blurted. “This was never your house, and Mrs D’Avonlea would throw you out herself if she could! Sneaking, smirking piece of uppity trash that you are!”Fiona’s mouth worked, nostrils flaring.“I’ve had just about enough of you, you old witch!” she snapped, and fired.For a moment Lacey felt as though she was in a dream. There was a strange ringing in her ears, an odd feeling as though she was somehow insubstantial, a ghost. As though she had been the one shot, and her soul had left her body. The shot echoed around the kitchen, as if the pots and pans themselves were in uproar, and a bright spot of blood bloomed on Mrs Potts’ chest, just below her shoulder. Lacey’s mouth fell open in horror. “No!” she screamed.Mrs Potts fell, and Lacey leaped towards her, managing to cushion her a little as they both thumped to the floor. Blood was spreading across her right chest and shoulder at an alarming rate, and Mrs Potts gazed up at her with unfocused eyes. Lacey fumbled, pressing against the bloody cloth in a panic.“You shot her!” she wept. “How could you, she’s no threat to you!”“Be quiet!” said Fiona sharply. “Don’t you think I’ve heard enough of your whining over the years! Now get up and come with me!”“No, please, she needs help!” begged Lacey. “Please, let me help her! She’ll bleed to death, you can’t just leave her!”
“This isn’t my doing!” she said coldly. “You did this, Belle! You knew the price for disloyalty, and you knew it wouldn’t just be you that would pay! This is your fault! Like everything else that’s happened in your miserable little life.”“I won’t leave her!” Lacey hurriedly tugged off Mrs Potts’ apron, rolling it up and pressing it over the wound. “Call a bloody ambulance, now!”“Get up!”"Call 911!"Somehow, focusing on Mrs Potts made her fear diminish, something like desperation and rage replacing it. She used the straps of the apron to tie it as tight as she could, holding the wad of thick cotton in place. Mrs Potts had closed her eyes, her breathing shallow, and Lacey tugged off the sweater she was wearing and folded it up, slipping it under Mrs Potts’ head.“I won’t tell you again, Isabelle.”Desperation and rage, indeed. But the rage was now uppermost. Lacey pushed slowly to her feet, unwinding with the sinuous grace of a cat, and squared her jaw. Fiona gave her a tiny, satisfied smile.“Good,” she said softly. “Now open the back door, walk outside and show me where those friends of yours parked their car. They must have one.”“I’m not going anywhere with you,” said Lacey, her tone disdainful. “I’m gonna call an ambulance and then I’ll wait with Mrs Potts until it gets here. You can go fuck yourself.”“If you don’t open that back door this instant, I’ll put another bullet in the old battle-axe!” said Fiona, her tone sharp.
“You’ll have to shoot me first!”Lacey snatched up the nearest solid object—the frying pan Mrs Potts had been carrying—and stepped between them, glaring.
“It’s a little late to start growing a backbone, Isabelle,” said Fiona, in a heavy drawl. “Your father’s given me permission to shoot you if you don’t obey. Whether that’s in the chest or somewhere less fatal is entirely your choice.” “He can go fuck himself too!” bellowed Lacey, and hurled the frying pan as the gun went off with a loud bang.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

That Lacey hit Fiona with the frying pan at all was pure luck. There was a loud bang as the gun discharged, the whine of a bullet ricocheting off the cast iron, and the sound of a second shot. Lacey felt warm spray on her face, and a dark red spot bloomed in Fiona’s chest as the frying pan bounced up off the stone tiles with a doleful clang. Her first thought was that she herself had been shot, but no pain came, and Lacey let out a breath as Fiona's eyes seemed to glaze over, her mouth growing slack as she slumped to the ground.Lacey was shaking with fear and anger, the spray on her cheeks cooling and the scent of blood in her nose. She reached up to touch her face with trembling hands, the fingertips coming away bloody, her breathing rapid and shallow. The sound of footsteps made her look up, and a strange man with a close-cropped beard and a sheriff’s badge entered the kitchen.“Sheriff Humbert, Ma’am,” he said. “Are you hurt?”
Lacey shook her head mutely, and the man nodded, glancing over his shoulder.“Swan! With me!”For a brief, ridiculous moment, Lacey expected a live swan to enter the kitchen, complete with a loaded gun and a deputy’s badge. Instead it was a blonde woman in a black beanie and a heavy leather jacket. She had the gun and badge, though. The sheriff had already pulled out his phone and was speaking urgently to whoever was on the line about gunshot wounds and the need for an ambulance while he squatted by Fiona’s side, fingers pressed to her neck. He straightened up with a momentary shake of his head, and Lacey’s legs seemed to give out. She flopped down onto the floor beside Mrs Potts, and the blonde woman holstered her gun.“Bit of a bloodbath out there,” she said, as the sheriff hung up.“I counted three bodies on the way here,” he said.“And what, you decided four was better?”The sheriff gave her a level look, gesturing at Fiona.
“This one was yelling threats and had just fired at these women. I had no choice, Emma.”“I’m kidding,” said the woman. “You made the right call. These guys were packing some serious hardware. This wasn’t your average weekend hunting trip. The rest of ‘em are lucky to be alive.”“Who’ve we got?”“There’s a middle-aged guy in jeans, and two young women.”
Lacey slumped a little more, feeling a wave of relief that almost made her burst into tears. Rafe’s alive. Merida and Mulan are okay too. Thank God. She had begun shaking again, and clutched Mrs Potts’ hand hard.“All of ‘em yelled they were police, dropped their weapons and got on their knees at the sight of us,” the woman—Emma—added. “I heard them saying something about Seattle PD as I was coming this way.”“Seattle P.D.?” The sheriff shook his head. “That makes no sense. What the hell are they doing over here in Maine?”“Dunno, but I doubt it was a neighbour dispute,” said Emma flatly. “Couple of those dead guys looked like your average hit men.”“Well, you heard the rumours about old Mr D’Avonlea.”“There’s another guy with a serious head wound. Not sure if he’ll make it or not. Don’t know if he’s with the others.”
Felix. I suppose at least Mrs Potts isn’t a killer. What about my father? Please tell me it’s over. Lacey sniffed, eyes stinging, and the two seemed to notice her again.“What’s your name, kid?” asked Emma.“Lacey Weaver,” she whispered.“What happened here, Lacey?” asked the sheriff, and she shook her head. Fat tears had begun to well up and run down her cheeks, and she dashed them away, her teeth chattering. The blood was drying on her face, sticky and unpleasant.“We’re going to need a statement from you,” he said, and she shrank in on herself a little, her shaking more violent, her lower lip trembling.“Graham, she’s in shock, give her a break.” Emma was digging in the pocket of her jacket. “Go upstairs, get a statement from the others. I’ll stay with Lacey.”
The sheriff nodded and ducked out of the room, and Emma squatted down next to Lacey, handing her a small bar of chocolate.“Eat it,” she said. “It’ll help, trust me.”Lacey gave her a wobbly smile, and took the chocolate, breaking off a couple of squares and shoving them in her mouth. Mrs Potts let out a tiny groan, her eyelids fluttering, and Lacey chewed and swallowed hurriedly.“Mrs Potts!” she said. “You’re gonna be okay, I promise! The sheriff came, and he called 911. The ambulance’ll be here any moment.”“Fiona?” whispered Mrs Potts, and Lacey hesitated.“Dead,” she said. “He shot her.”Mrs Potts smiled. Good, she mouthed, and squeezed Lacey’s hand.“I threw your frying pan at her, too,” added Lacey. “Don’t know what I was thinking, bringing a pan to a gunfight.”Emma snorted in amusement, and Mrs Potts seemed to chuckle before groaning in pain again.“Okay, no laughing,” said Lacey anxiously. “Just stay real still, okay? You’re bleeding.”She could hear the faint sound of sirens, a distant wail coming closer, and Emma got to her feet, heading for the back door.“I’ll go meet them, bring them here,” she said. “Sit tight.”Lacey nodded. She was still shaking uncontrollably, teeth clicking together, and she tore the wrapper off the chocolate bar and ate another two squares. It was melting, sticking to the roof of her dry mouth and clinging to her teeth, but the taste of sugar on her tongue was heaven. She ate two more pieces, listening to the sirens and the sound of the raised voices. Where’s Rafe? God, I need him! Lights were flashing outside the back of the house, and the sirens cut off with an abrupt squeal. There were shouts outside, a clatter of metal and the sound of wheels on the concrete path, and the back door opened. Paramedics rushed in with a gurney, lowering it to the ground beside Mrs Potts and hurriedly checking her vitals. Lacey scuttled back from them on the heels of her hands and feet, taking refuge under the table to keep out of their way. Emma had followed them in, answering their questions in clipped sentences, and in less than a minute Mrs Potts had been strapped to the stretcher and wheeled out of the kitchen. More paramedics appeared, this time briefly checking Fiona and shouting for a body bag before heading up the stairs into the house. Lacey ate the last of the chocolate, pushing the wrapper in her pocket and getting to her feet.“You feeling any better?” asked Emma kindly, and she shook her head."Kinda numb, to be honest."“Do you live here?” asked Emma. “I don’t remember seeing you in town.”“It's my grandmother’s house,” said Lacey. “She’s very ill - Dr Whale comes regularly to see her, but she can’t move or speak.”Emma nodded, making a brief note in the pad she pulled from her pocket.“Yeah, I remember Graham mentioning your grandmother,” she said. “I’m sorry she’s so sick.”Lacey nodded, wishing Emma would just let her go and find Rafe. She could feel tears welling up from deep inside her, and had no desire to break down in front of a stranger, however kind the Deputy Sheriff seemed to be. Emma seemed to sense it.“You can go get cleaned up if you want,” she said. “The sheriff saw that you and—Mrs Potts?—that you and Mrs Potts were the victims here. We’re gonna need a statement from you at some point, but that doesn’t have to be tonight.”“I need Rafe.”Tears were stinging her eyes, spilling over to track down her cheeks. This time she didn’t try to stop them.“Who’s Rafe?”“Middle-aged guy in jeans,” said Lacey, echoing Emma’s words to the sheriff. “He’s my husband.”“Your husband, huh?” Emma sucked her teeth. “Let me go see if Graham’s done talking to him. He’ll probably have to come down to the station.”“No, I need him!” insisted Lacey, and let out a sob, a cracked, splintered sound. It seemed to break something open inside her and she burst into tears, shoulders shaking.“Hey,” said Emma gently. “Just - look, just sit down. Try not to touch anything, we need to preserve the crime scene as much as we can. I’ll be back, okay?”
Lacey barely heard her go. She slumped onto one of the chairs, her body wracked with great, gulping sobs. Her throat was hurting, tears splashing onto her knees as she wept. Her vision shifted and blurred, the clean stone tiles and the spreading pool of red from Fiona’s body.
She recognised his tread on the kitchen tiles, and then he was with her, hands on hers, pulling her to her feet and taking her in his arms. Lacey clung to him, trying to inhale the scent of him through a nose that was already blocked with her weeping, and Weaver hugged her tight, one hand cradling her head, the other around her waist so that she was moulded to him. He kissed the side of her head.“Hey, sweetheart,” he said gently. “Come on now. You’re okay. Everything’s gonna be okay, I promise.”“I’m sorry!” she wept. “I’m so, so sorry!”“You don’t have anything to be sorry for.” His voice was a low rumble, vibrating through her like a cat’s purr, soothing her soul. “I’m alright, and so are Fa and Dunbroch. We’re together, and no one is gonna hurt you again, I promise you.”“My - my father?”“Dead,” he said soothingly. “They’re all dead.”She burst into fresh tears, sagging against him, and he made soothing, shushing noises, stroking her back.“It’s okay, love,” he whispered. “It’s okay.”“Mrs Potts got shot,” she sobbed.“Yeah, the deputy told me,” he said. “She’ll be just fine, I’m sure of it.”“She could die!”
“She confronted me with nothing but a frying pan in her hand,” he said. “Don’t worry about her, she’s as hard as fucking nails, that woman. If Death does turn up to claim her while she’s in the hospital, she’ll probably throw a bedpan at him.”Lacey let out a tearful laugh, and he chuckled, kissing her hair.“Everything’s gonna be fine, I promise,” he said calmly. “But I have to go to the sheriff’s station and make a statement.”“No! Don’t go!” Her grip tightened as she felt a spike of fear.“I have to,” he said gently. “Fa and Dunbroch too, but I’ll come back as soon as I can.”“Detective Weaver? We’re ready for you.”That was Emma’s voice. Lacey closed her eyes, squeezing out the tears in them. I wish he didn’t have to go! She swallowed hard; her throat was hurting. Weaver reached up to brush a twist of hair back from her face. It had stuck to her skin, dried blood holding it in place until he tugged it free, and she grimaced.“You should go and get changed,” he said. “Take a bath, you’ll feel better. Maybe go see how Cogsworth is, if you feel up to explaining what happened.”Lacey nodded, still clinging to him.“I want to see Tilly,” she whimpered. “I want us all to go home and I want to spend the entire weekend in - in a fucking blanket fort eating cookies and ice cream!”Weaver burst out laughing and cupped her face with his hands, leaning in to press his brow against hers.“I think Tilly might help to build the fort,” he said quietly. “That sounds perfect, sweetheart.”He kissed her forehead, then pressed gentle lips to her eyes, kissing away her tears.“I’ll be back,” he assured her. “You should try and get some rest, if you can.”She nodded, knowing that he was right. There was a bone-deep weariness simmering just below the surface, and she knew she needed sleep. She hugged him again, hand grasping and squeezing his as he pulled away and gave her a last,
reassuring smile.“Ready?” asked Emma, and he nodded.“I’ll be back,” he said again, and followed Emma out of the door.Lacey took Weaver’s advice, and went to see Cogsworth. He was still in bed, she was relieved to see, and still looking very ill. There was an anxious look in his eyes, which widened at the sight of her.“Miss Belle, what happened!”“I’m okay,” she said wearily, waving a hand at him as he tried to sit up. “There was - well, a battle, I guess. My father, Fiona and Azurine turned up to drag me back to Vegas with them.”“Where are they now?” he asked. “And why are you bleeding? Are you hurt?”“It’s not my blood.” Lacey closed her eyes momentarily at the memory of the gunshot and the feel of the spray on her face. “They’re dead. All of them.”“I - what?” Cogsworth shook his head. “I thought I heard gunshots, but you said there might be noises, and I should stay here…what on earth happened?”Lacey sighed.“I’m not sure I can talk about it right now,” she said, her voice wobbling. “I knew they were coming, and - and I had some friends here to protect me. They’re dead, Cogsworth. My father’s dead. Fiona. Azurine. Their bodyguards. Not sure about Felix, he might just be concussed…”“Oh my goodness!”“Mrs Potts got shot.” She choked a little on that. “She was trying to protect me, and Fiona—” She cut off with a sob, pressing a hand to her mouth, and Cogsworth shook his head, putting a hand on her shoulder.“Is she - is she alright?” he asked nervously, and Lacey sniffed, shaking her head.“They took her away in an ambulance. She’d lost a lot of blood, but she was talking, and she knew who I was - Rafe says she’ll be just fine.”“Rafe?”“My husband.”
“Husband?”
Lacey let out a warbling laugh.“God, there’s so much I need to tell you!” she said. “But I think I really need to take a shower first. Maybe even a bath. I’ll do that, and then I’ll bring you some tea, okay?”She leaned in to kiss his cheek, leaving him with a somewhat bewildered expression, and went to her rooms to get changed. She took a shower first, washing the blood from her hair and skin, scrubbing under her nails to get rid of it all. Water ran down the shower drain in streaks of rust as she scrubbed herself clean. She then drew a bath, using lots of foam and sinking down into the hot water until it came up to her shoulders. Closing her eyes, she let herself drift, her mind going blessedly blank as she concentrated on the feel of the hot water against her skin. Images assailed her even as she tried to block them out, gunshots and blood and sprawled bodies. Tears welled up again as she remembered Weaver’s words. Dead. They’re all dead.
She let herself cry, great, gulping sobs that made her throat ache and her shoulders shake, and it was as though she was shedding her old life, sloughing off years of darkness and fear, washing away pain. There was something that felt like grief there too, and she was surprised at that. Why the hell should she grieve her father, after everything? It made her confused, and angry at herself, and that only made her cry harder, her body shaking as her tears dripped into the water. Eventually she had no tears left, and she heaved long, ragged breaths, her throat sore and her eyes stinging. The bath was tepid, and she ran a little cold water and splashed her face with it to revive herself. It was over. It was done.
When she was dry and dressed in fresh clothes, she went down to the kitchens. The sheriff’s team had already removed the bodies and left the house, the floors littered with their markers and crime scene tape still across the kitchen door before she tugged it down. Lacey skirted around the blood-stained area and headed for the sink to fill the tea kettle. Hopefully the police wouldn’t take long in getting a statement from Weaver and the others.Explaining to Cogsworth what had happened that evening and talking him through the past four years left Lacey worn out. He was surprised and delighted when he heard of her new life, her husband and daughter and her plans for the future. She slumped in the chair by his bedside, flicking through her phone to show him pictures of Tilly.“You should bring her here,” he said. “I’d love to see her. It’s safe for you here now.”“Yeah.” Lacey chewed her lip. “Weird, isn’t it? I feel like I shouldn’t be here. I spent so long hiding, and it’s like I don’t know how to stop.”“Well, I’m sure your grandmother would want you here,” he said.“Yeah.” Lacey put her phone back in her pocket. “I should go see her again. Let her know what happened. Even if she can’t hear me.”He patted her hand gently.“I’m sure she can.”Weaver shrugged into his leather jacket, rolling his shoulders wearily. It was late; the sheriff had been detailed in his questioning, and he was surprised to see Fa and Dunbroch still waiting for him. They had driven to the station in the hire car, and Fa was leaning against the driver’s door with her arm tossed around Merida’s shoulders.“About bloody time,” remarked Merida. “What the hell were you talking about? We’ve been waiting ages.”“They were certainly thorough,” agreed Weaver, tilting his head from side to side and listening to the crunch in his neck.“I’d say we should go to the diner and have a few stiff drinks, but I think it’s closed.”“I need to get back to the house anyway,” he said.“Get in, then,” said Fa. “I’ll drive. Did they say they needed to talk to Lacey?”“Tomorrow, but I’m hoping they won’t take too long,” he said. “Her father’s death has set hares running in all directions, from what Deputy Swan was saying. I think we might get a visit from the Feds, and I’d prefer if we can leave before they come sniffing around. Lacey’s been through enough.”“They’ll only catch up with you in Seattle,” she said, and he grunted, opening the car door.“True, but it should buy us some time. I plan to head to northern California to join Nolan. You two can deal with them until we get back.”They got in, Fa and Dunbroch in the front seats with Weaver in the back. He let his head loll back against the headrest as they pulled away and headed for the road out of town.“We got an update from the hospital,” said Fa. “Mrs Potts is doing fine. The bullet passed through cleanly, and they’ve patched her up. Should be ready for visitors tomorrow.”Weaver grinned at that. Hard as nails, like I said. “I’ll take Lacey to see her,” he said. “She’ll be worried sick.”“What are you gonna do about the rest of it?” asked Merida.“The rest of it?”“Yeah. The house. The fact that Lacey’s gonna inherit a massive bloody mansion.”“Oh.” Weaver ran his hands over his face. “I don’t know. It’s up to her. I can’t imagine myself living in that place, can you?”“Don’t fancy yourself as lord of the manor, then?” Merida was chuckling.“What do you fucking think?”“Oh, come on! At least hold a few garden parties before you sell the place! You could learn to play croquet!”“Stop taking the piss.”“We can get you fitted for a top hat and monocle.”“Dunbroch, so help me…”“Even if you sell it, that’s a hell of a lot of money,” said Fa. “You could move out of the apartment. Get a place in Bellevue, or Spokane.”“We’ll see,” said Weaver. “I don’t think we’re Bellevue kind of people. Besides, her grandmother’s still alive, and we don’t know for sure that the house is going to Lacey. But we’ll be moving, no matter what. We’re going to try for another baby.”The two women made approving noises.“This means you’ll need to keep a decent shift schedule, start taking your leave like you’re supposed to,” said Fa. “Lieutenant Drake’s gonna be thrilled.”Weaver chuckled at that, and closed his eyes, shifting in the seat to get more comfortable. He needed to talk to Lacey about the future at some point, but not right now. Right now he wanted to curl up in bed with her and sleep until mid-morning.The house was very quiet when they got back, the sheriff’s men having cleared out some time ago. Blood was pooled in the kitchen and hallway, streaks and splatters now dried to a deep reddish-brown. He sighed, wishing he had the energy to clean it up so Lacey wouldn’t have to see it. His tired body seemed to groan in protest, and so he mounted the stairs instead, seeking out Lacey.
He found her in her grandmother’s room, curled in a chair and snoozing. She jerked awake when he put a hand on her shoulder, and there was a momentary look of fear in her eyes before she recognised him. He wondered how long it would take for that fear to go.“Hey,” he said gently. “It’s late. Come to bed.”“What happened?” she asked anxiously. “Are you okay? The sheriff…”“He wants to speak to you tomorrow, but he says it shouldn’t take too long,” he said. “After that we’re free to go. The FBI will have an interest in your father, of course, but there’s nothing to stop us going back to Seattle as soon as you want.”“Oh.” She seemed to sag with relief. “What - what about Mrs Potts? Did you hear anything?”“Surgery went well, and she’s out of danger,” he confirmed. “You should be able to visit tomorrow.”“Oh, thank God!”
Lacey sighed, and ran her hands over her face. It looked as though she had been crying, and he wanted to take her in his arms. She uncurled her legs, getting to her feet and taking his hand.“I took a shower, and then I had a bath,” she said. “Do you want one?”Weaver was about to say no, but then looked down at himself, where blood spattered his shirt and jeans. He nodded.“Go get into bed,” he said. “I’ll be quick.”He felt better for showering, and somewhat refreshed, although his body was crying out for rest. Lacey was asleep when he crawled into bed, and he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. She mumbled something, nuzzling his chest, and he kissed the top of her head.“Sleep, sweetheart,” he whispered. “You’ve been brave enough for one day.”They slept almost until noon, when the sound of Mulan and Merida moving around woke them. A hasty breakfast was cooked and eaten before they headed out again, back into town to speak to the sheriff. Lacey was relieved to see that Emma was on duty, and the interview was concluded quickly.“That Felix guy looks as though he might pull through,” said Emma, at the end. “Is he a threat to you?”“I don’t know,” said Lacey, with a shrug. “Now that my father’s dead, I guess maybe not.”“He’s handcuffed to the hospital bed anyway,” said Emma. “And the Feds have taken an interest. Expect they’ll want to take him off our hands.”“Good riddance,” said Lacey fervently, and Emma smiled.“Well, that’s it,” she said. “You’re free to go. Take care, Lacey. Have a good life.”Lacey returned her smile.“It actually feels like I might be able to do that,” she said. “Thank you.”The next stop was at the hospital. Mrs Potts was sitting up in bed, surgical dressings visible on her shoulder where the neckline of her gown was loose. She looked tired, but smiled brightly as soon as Lacey entered.“It’s good of you to come, dear,” she said. “That nice Deputy Swan told me everything. You threw my frying pan at that dreadful woman and saved us both!”“It was the sheriff that actually killed her,” said Lacey awkwardly. “I just got mad and hurled a pan. Think it threw off her aim a little.”
“Good.” Mrs Potts winced, shifting against the pillows. “It all worked out for the best, didn’t it?”“Honestly, we could have done without you getting shot,” said Lacey, and Mrs Potts chuckled.“I’m getting far too old for all this adventure,” she sighed, and Lacey squeezed her hand.“You should take things easy,” she agreed. “You and Cogsworth both, now that - things have changed.”“Yes, I suppose we should,” said Mrs Potts, looking pensive. “Poor Cogsworth. Spent decades looking after old Mr D’Avonlea, and then had to endure his dreadful son-in-law. It’s high time he had an easy life.”
“What will you do?” asked Lacey.Mrs Potts heaved a breath.“I shall carry on until Mrs D’Avonlea passes,” she said decidedly. “And then I rather think I’d like to retire. Cogsworth and I often talked about sharing a little cottage together. I think we’d like that. I can do the cooking, and he can potter around in the garden and keep the place neat. We can play cards and read to each other. A simple life, but a happy one, I think.”“A simple life,” said Lacey wistfully. “That sounds perfect.”“I daresay you could have one too,” said Mrs Potts, eyeing her keenly. “If you wanted.”“Yeah.” Lacey pursed her lips. “Yeah, I think that sounds - pretty wonderful.”“But you must bring little Tilly to visit,” added Mrs Potts. “And any other little ones you and your husband might have.”Lacey grinned at that, and leaned in to kiss her cheek.“I promise,” she said.They flew the next day, driving down to Boston to take the first flight out. Mulan and Merida were headed back to Seattle, Lacey and Weaver for Crescent City in northern California. It meant a long flight with two stops, but eagerness to see Tilly again kept Lacey alert for much of the trip. Weaver had called ahead to let David know they were coming, and sure enough he was waiting for them in his car to drive them the short distance to the little beach cabin he and Snow had rented. Tilly and Neal came tearing out of the door as soon as the car pulled up outside, squealing loudly with Wilby barking at their heels. Snow followed at a more sedate pace with David’s wheelchair, smiling at the children’s excitement. She was wearing an apron, and there was a pair of metal barbecue tongs hooked over the belt at her waist. Tilly had almost reached the car, and Lacey scrabbled at the door in her rush to get it open.“Mummy!” Tilly slammed into her legs, and Lacey squatted down to pull her into a hug.“She’s been asking what time you were getting here since about nine this morning,” said Snow, one foot keeping the wheelchair in place as David pulled himself out of the car and into the seat. “It’s all she could think about all day.”“I know the feeling,” said Lacey, feeling tears sting her eyes.
Wilby nuzzled her, licking her face and making her chuckle. She kissed Tilly’s cheek. “Sweetie, we missed you so much!”“Me too!” Tilly hugged her hard. “You’ve been ages!”“Yeah.” Lacey relaxed her grip, sitting back on her heels and wiping her eyes. “Yeah, I have. But I’m back now, baby, and I’m not going anywhere.”“You promise?”“I promise.” Lacey kissed her forehead.
“And Daddy’s gonna live with us?”“Absolutely he is.”“You promise?”“Cross my heart.” Lacey drew a finger across her chest. “And Daddy and I decided a few things.”“Like what?” Tilly looked curious.“Well,” said Weaver, bending to give Wilby a pat. “First of all, we’re going to move out of the apartment into a proper house. With a garden. Maybe somewhere near your Uncle David and Auntie Snow.”Tilly looked between them with an expression of awe.“And if we have a proper garden,” added Lacey. “We’ll have room to get a dog.”Tilly’s mouth fell open, and then she squealed so loudly Lacey winced.“A doggy! We’re getting a doggy!”“We need to get the house first,” said Weaver, and laughed as she ran to him and wrapped her arms around his legs. “We’re gonna go to a shelter, and you have to help us pick the right one, okay? One that’s - lost and alone and in need of a warm, safe place to sleep.”He was eyeing Lacey as he said it, and she smiled, wanting to kiss him.“One that’s in need of love,” she added. “And a proper family.”“Yeah!” Tilly jumped up and down in excitement. “We’re gonna have the best doggy!”Weaver scooped her up, holding her in the crook of one arm, and Tilly planted a loud kiss on his cheek. He kissed her forehead.“I missed you, princess,” he said.“Missed you too,” she said. “Uncle David says we gonna do barbecue!”“Yes. Oh!” Snow turned on her toes to David, tugging the tongs from the belt of her apron. “I lit the barbecue while you were gone. Figured it could take a while to get some proper heat. It should be ready for you to start cooking soon. There are sausages and some chicken strips all ready to go, and I made potato salad.”“Sounds delicious,” said Lacey.“There’ll be more than enough for all of us,” said Snow. “I hope you’re staying tonight?”“If you can fit us in, we’d love to,” said Lacey, and Snow gave her a warm smile.“It’ll be cosy, but there’s room.”“My skills with the barbecue should be observed by as many as possible,” said David, now brandishing the set of tongs, and Lacey looked at Weaver.“We’d better stay to make sure he doesn’t set his pants on fire,” he said, and Tilly and Neal giggled.“For that, you’re stuck with the washing up,” said David sternly, snapping the tongs, and Weaver laughed and kissed Tilly’s cheek.“Let’s leave Uncle David tending his fire,” he said. “Why don’t you kids show us the beach?”He set Tilly down, and she held out a hand to Neal, the two children running off down the sand-strewn cinder path to the beach. The sun was setting in a blaze of red and gold, the waves curling over to crash against the shore. Weaver reached for Lacey’s hand, fingers sliding through hers, and she glanced across at him, a warm smile curving the corners of her mouth as they walked.“I’m looking forward to getting home,” she said. “I think we’ve got a lot to plan.”“We do,” he agreed. “I think we’re gonna be busy.”“Yeah.” She squeezed his hand. “A new house, a new dog - maybe even another baby. And some cats.”Weaver chuckled.“Let’s get the new house sorted first.”“Okay.” She caught his eye. “And I’m gonna go back to school. I really mean it this time.”“I think that’s a great idea,” he said. “And I’ll support you in whatever way you need.”“Including staying up with the baby?” she teased, and he grinned.“Especially that.”She grinned, her eyes sparkling, and they walked on a little further. The children were playing on the edge of the shore, darting towards the retreating tide and then running away as the waves chased them back across the wet sand.“Did you decide what you wanted to do with the contents of your grandmother’s safe yet?” he asked, and she pulled a face, chewing her lower lip.“Not yet,” she admitted. “Part of me wants to burn everything in there. Is that cowardly?”“Not at all,” he said. “She left the decision on what to do with it up to you. I think you should do whatever feels right for you.”“Hmm.” She wrinkled her nose. “A decision for another day, then. For now I’m just going to enjoy spending time with you and Tilly.”“That sounds perfect.”He squeezed her hand as she smiled at him, and they walked on a little. Lacey heaved a breath in, face turned up to the pinkish sky.“So,” said Weaver. “The end of one chapter, the start of another.”“Yeah.”“How do you feel about it?”Lacey stopped dead, and pursed her lips.“I feel - excited,” she said. “Like it’s gonna be an adventure. But the good kind.”Weaver grinned broadly, turning to face her. His hands found her waist, tugging her towards him.“Every day with you has been an adventure, Lacey,” he said softly, and she smiled as he let his forehead rest against hers.“The good kind?”“The best kind.”
He grinned, turning his head to catch her lips with his, and she rose up on her toes, twining her arms around his neck as the kiss deepened. Their lips parted, and he pressed another gentle kiss to her mouth, nuzzling her nose with his.“I love you,” he whispered, and she smiled.“I love you, too,” she said. “And I’m so glad I met you.”“Of all the people that have bumped into me fleeing a murder scene, you’re definitely my favourite,” he assured her, and she burst into giggles before kissing him again.“We’re going to be very happy together, Detective Weaver,” she said, and he grinned.“Yeah,” he said. “I think we are.”Lacey reached up to kiss him, fingers sliding into his hair as he tugged her close. She could smell the sea in the air, and taste the salt on his tongue. The sound of the children laughing as they played made her heart swell with happiness. The start of a new chapter, with the man she loved and their daughter. It was going to be the most wonderful adventure.