The Right to Love - Part 12

[lenageek]

Title: The Right to Love

Spoilers: Takes place after ep 101 (8x09) after Pepa and Silvia have become engaged. This is a sequel to my previous PepSi fanfic, In Love’s Defense. My fic follows LHDP up to ep 101 but departs from the show at that point - ep 104 never has and never will exist in this version of Pepa and Silvia’s world.

Rating: R for profanity and a crapload of angst!

Pairing: Pepa/Silvia

Summary: As Pepa and Silvia deal with the aftermath of their encounter with El Gordo, a new case comes forward that challenges their rights as well as their lives.

A/N/Disclaimer: The characters of LHDP aren’t mine. This part goes in between several points of view, so I hope it came out okay, especially since I just finished writing this in the wee hours of the morning! But it’s great fun, especially since the last scene was the genesis of this story and is the one that I’ve had in my head for more than a year. No worries though, I only deal in happy endings! :D

[ Part 1] [ Part 2] [ Part 3] [ Part 4] [ Part 5] [ Part 6] [ Part 7] [ Part 8] [ Part 9] [ Part 10] [ Part 11]

This can’t be happening. This is insane!

Pepa’s brain tried to rationalize with the words Trujillo had just said, but for once she was unable to come up with a retort. Any words she would have spoken in her defense stuck in her throat, useless.

No matter what, I have to protect her! Protect Silvia!

Those words screaming through her mind broke Pepa out of her temporary paralysis. Angrily, she snapped off her gloves and staked towards her nemesis, stopping just short of the IA agent.

“Just what the hell do you think you have on me, Trujillo?” She bit off the words, her nostrils flaring.

“Obstruction of justice and impeding an investigation that IA specifically prohibited you from working on.” The shorter man slapped the paper against Pepa’s chest. She took it and scanned the document, dismayed to find that it was an authentic warrant, signed by a judge Romano Pedroza.

“You continued to work on the Duarte case, under the guise of - what was it? I believe the term was ‘backlog paperwork for last year’s cases’.” Trujillo sneered. He jabbed an accusing finger in Don Lorenzo’s direction. “I should have you arrested as well, comisario, for taking part in this ruse! Believe me, I’ll be serving your warrant next!”

“That’s enough!” Pepa yelled, stopping the commissioner in mid-step as he came towards them. “If you and your IA thugs deal with anyone, you deal with me!”

“As we should! Especially since you illegally interrogated Senator Lozano and dealt with the criminal underworld in pursuing this case! We know you had contact with the vigilante known as Blackman. Yet another fact you’ve done a poor job of concealing.”

The brunette was incensed at the implication. “You’ve been following me? Investigating me all this time?”

“Sí.” Trujillo’s smirk appeared, his dark blue eyes flashing contemptuously. “As I said, keeping an eye on you was a personal project of mine. One that’s paid off in spades.”

The last thing Pepa wanted was a fight in this small space where Silvia could be hurt further. So she relied on her instincts, calling upon her intimidation and height to their full effect. Her face went mercilessly still and cold, as she loomed over Trujillo, causing his arrogant expression to falter.

“Let me tell you how this is going to go down.” The agent’s voice was low, threatening rumble from deep in her throat. “Silvia is very ill and needs immediate medical attention. Which means that I’m not leaving her side. These are charges are bullshit, hidden under a façade of a witch hunt!”

Pepa’s fingers curled into Trujillo’s neatly pressed lapels, as she dragged him even closer, her breath hot and angry on his face. “Let me repeat it slowly so your tiny brain can process the words. I’m. Not. Going. Anywhere.”

A bead of sweat trickled down Trujillo’s temple, belying his nervousness. He gulped, than found his voice. “Threaten me all you want, Agent Miranda. But I have orders to take you immediately to IA headquarters for questioning, where I can hold and interrogate you by any means necessary. For as long as I want, until I get the answers I’m looking for.”

A pained whimper made Pepa’s head whip anxiously around, as she was made aware Silvia had heard everything.

“It’s going to be all right, cariño!” She released Trujillo and stepped back, hastening soothe her. “I’ll be fine. I’m not -”

Everything happened too fast, all at once. Trujillo took advantage of Pepa’s distraction to grab her left wrist, latching a handcuff tightly around it. As Pepa resisted, pulling away on instinct, the IA agent lashed out, jamming a short, strong punch into her ribs.

“Pepa!” Paco lunged forward, only to be met by Morales as threw a vicious elbow backwards, catching the inspector in the face. Paco lost his footing, thrown off balance as his head slammed against the door. He slumped to the floor, unconscious.

Before Pepa could regain her breath, she felt another jab to her ribs, at the same time a foot hooked her behind her left knee, throwing her flat on her back. She felt the impact of her head cracking against the concrete, as Trujillo’s foot stomped on her chest.

“Get back!” Morales yelled, his gun unholstered and pointed at Don Lorenzo, who had started in Pepa’s direction. He slowly raised his hands in surrender, his gaze unerringly fixed upon the IA agents, seething with hatred.

“You two will fucking pay for this!” The commissioner said, shaking with rage. “Por mis santos cojones!”

“I’m sure, old man.” Trujillo spat. “We can add resisting arrest to the charges, Agent Miranda!” He slightly increased the pressure on Pepa’s chest, forcing a strangled groan from her throat.

“Nooo!” Silvia stirred on the table, her voice a breathless plea.

She stretched out her right arm towards her partner, dislodging a few of the electrodes on her skin, despite Dr. Gonzalez and her father’s efforts to keep her still.

“...don’t hurt her…por favor!”

“Silvia!” Pepa struggled to escape from under Trujillo’s grasp, despite the bruises she could feel with every movement.

She gasped as a kick rolled her over onto her stomach, before she felt her shoulder holster and weapon ripped away. A knee pressed uncomfortably into her back as her hands were wrenched behind her and tightly handcuffed, the metal teeth biting into her wrists.

Trujillo grabbed a fistful of the agent’s uniform, hauling her to her feet. “I’ve been waiting for this satisfaction of this moment for a long time, Agent Miranda!” he hissed, his spittle spraying in her ear. “No one fucks with me and gets away with it!”

“Don’t!” Pepa shouted in warning to Don Lorenzo and Dr. Gonzalez, stopping them in their tracks. She could feel herself being dragged backwards towards the door, despite her resistance, knowing she only had seconds left.

“Stay with Silvia! Get her to the hospital!” The brunette gritted her teeth as she felt another punch to her lower back. “Take care of her, no matter what happens to me!”

“Pepa!” The commissioner yelled in protest. But she was already out the door and had disappeared, being forcefully shoved down the hallway.

“It’ll be all right, hija.” Don Lorenzo turned to his distraught daughter, wiping away the tears streaming down her cheeks. He laid a gentle hand on her stomach, trying to calm the trembling he felt reverberating through her body. “Lie still. I’ll get Pepa back to you before you know it.”

Dr. Gonzalez exchanged a glance with the older man over Silvia’s head and nodded gravely in agreement. “Let me check on Inspector Miranda.”

The doctor went over to examine Paco, who was already stirring. “How are we going to get Agent Miranda back without breaking her out of IA headquarters or hurting anyone else?”

“I’m working on it” Don Lorenzo answered, racking his brain. He just hoped he and his men could pull it off.

___

Pepa’s mind was maelstrom of emotions and hurt. Fear gnawed at her insides over Silvia’s condition, while she now felt every newly placed ache and bruise. She almost stumbled headfirst down the stairs of the precinct, as Morales’ hand thrust between her shoulder blades, pushing her from behind. Her head throbbed painfully with every heartbeat, while she was certain she had badly bruised or cracked ribs. But as the trio reached the bottom of the stairs, it was the burning in the agent’s cheeks that overrode her physical pain. The shame she felt, as she observed the wide-eyed stares and gaping mouths of her fellow agents, was a humiliating gauntlet of disgrace. It was made even worse by the fact that she was in uniform, looking like a traitor to the CNP and the ideals they upheld.

“Hey!” Montoya dropped the file he was holding and ran up to face Trujillo, blocking his way. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Get out of the way, pretty boy!” The IA agent put a hand flat against the agent’s chest, pushing him backwards. “IA is detaining Agent Miranda for questioning, as they have every legal right!”

“I don’t think so.” Curtis joined Montoya at his side, his shoulders square and his feet planted. He casually put his hands on his hips, his right hand resting on the butt of his holstered 9mm. “You IA pricks are nothing but first class assholes! And I say, you’re not taking our friend anywhere!”

“Me too!” Povedilla dashed up to join the standoff, his eyes shining brightly behind his thick glasses.

“Me three!” Quique piped in, standing at Curtis’ other side.

“Qué?” Trujillo snorted in amazement at the determined ring of faces. “The ’fro, the four-eyes and the skinny gay guy are going to stop us?”

Curtis’ thick mustache twitched in annoyance, but he held his ground. His fingers curled tightly around the stock of his pistol, ready to pull it clear of its holster. “That’s right.”

“Out of our way, before we make you move!” Morales’ eyes shifted nervously back and forth, as his hand also dropped to his gun.

“Por favor, don’t -” Pepa implored her friends in a low voice, sensing the rising animosity.

Before the brunette even finished speaking, the IA agents and the four San Antonio officers had all pulled their weapons, eyeing each other apprehensively, ready to fire at the slightest provocation.

“There are four against two.” Montoya smiled thinly, Trujillo’s forehead in his sights. “That’s not good odds, even for IA.”

“Don’t think I won’t blow a hole in your head first, Montoy-ica!” Trujillo snarled.

“STOP!!” Pepa bellowed at the top of her lungs. “Por favor, put your guns away! For fuck’s sake, the priority has to be Silvia!”

Montoya paused, before releasing a reluctant sigh and lowering his weapon. “She’s right. Put your guns down, men.”

“But -” Curtis sputtered.

“Now, Curtis!” The inspector demanded, his voice broaching no room for argument.

Trujillo allowed himself a smile of victory as the guns were slowly holstered on both sides. “Now if you’ll excuse us, we have an appointment with the head of IA.”

“Don’t think this is over!” Montoya still refused to move. “I’m going with you and will observe the proceedings. Especially since you insist on detaining Agent Miranda when Silvia needs her at her side.”

“Gracias, but that won’t be necessary.”

The strident ring of Morales’ cell phone caused everyone to jump. He answered, his face turning downward into a glower of disappointment. “Qué? Are you sure? Un momento.”

He leaned forward and whispered into his boss’ ear, which produced an identical frown. Trujillo whispered back before Morales said a few more terse words into the phone and hung up.

Trujillo turned to Montoya, his haughty smile now slightly diminished. “Well, it seems you may get your wish to keep your precious Agent Miranda a little longer. The armored vehicle we’ve requested for her transport has been delayed by the weather.”

“Then let her go.” The inspector ordered. “Let her go to the hospital with Silvia.”

“Oh no, no, she’s still technically under arrest and my authority.” Trujillo insisted. “Which means I’m putting her in lockup here. And she’ll be under our guard and our guard only, until the transport arrives.”

“You son of a bitch!” Curtis growled. He sprung towards the IA agents, only to be restrained by Montoya.

“All right, we’ll play by your god forsaken rules.” Montoya said, covertly catching Pepa’s eye, watching her nod slightly in confirmation. “But don’t think we’ll forget this. This is our precinct and our house you’re playing in!”

“Ooh, I’m shivering!” Trujillo ridiculed as he pushed his way past the San Antonio officers, with Morales shoving Pepa in front of him.

The trio entered the room that contained the holding cell, walking Pepa into the small windowless space. Trujillo pulled his gun and pressed the muzzle against Pepa’s midsection as Morales produced the key to unlock her handcuffs.

“Try anything right now, and you’ll get a bullet in your gut.” The IA agent muttered in a low warning tone. “You can be just like Inspectora Castro. You’ll match!”

Pepa held still as she felt the cuffs unlock from her wrists, the painful tingling lighting her hands on fire as the blood started to recirculate. Her face was an emotionless mask as she sized up her opponent.

“I don’t care what you do to me.” The agent said, her voice deadly serious. “But if your actions cause any harm to Silvia - if she’s permanently damaged or dies because of what you’ve put her though, then know this. I’ll make it my personal project to break your neck with my bare hands.”

Trujillo smiled, though Pepa could read the unease behind his gesture of audacity. “Such a bold statement…for a woman!”

The IA agents exited the cell, locking it tightly behind them. Trujillo turned to Morales as the agent sat at the desk just outside the cell.

“Keep your gun out.” He ordered his second in command. “If any of those San Antonio fuck ups come in here and try to beg, barter or get Agent Miranda out, shoot them.”

Trujillo exited the holding cell area, ignoring the agents and ring of anxious faces around him. He started walking briskly towards his office, pushing Montoya and Salgado aside without looking at them or answering their questions.

“I might as well finish up the paperwork on Agent Miranda so everything’s in order when she arrives at IA headquarters. You!” He pointed to Rita, who was aghast with shock. “Bring me a coffee! If anyone tries to interfere with me or Morales, there will be consequences!”

Without a further word, he slammed the door. He failed to see the San Antonio agents moving into action the second he was out of sight.

___

Trujillo sighed heavily as he took Pepa’s arrest warrant from the inside pocket of his suit jacket and placed it on a stack of files. He pinched the bridge of his nose, irritated beyond belief that the situation with the troublesome agent was dangerously close to being exposed.

“Fucking San Antonio precinct!” He muttered to out loud. “I can’t wait until I’m out of this shithole!”

He paused in thought for a few moments, pacing the small room. He needed direction on how to proceed next. Trujillo flipped his cell phone open, dialing a number from memory.

“Hola? You wanted an update, sí?” The agent faced away from the door, lowering his voice. “I put the patch on Castro, like you said...exactly, you saw her research. She’s too fucking smart, that one.”

“And Miranda?” He smiled, in spite of the situation. “Oh, I took special pleasure in putting the cuffs on that bitch. Muchos gracias, señor. For allowing me leniency with that one. We’ve um…got a small delay with transport, but I’ll bring her to you as soon as we get going. That’s what you wanted, correct? Then you can dispose of her as you see fit. Ah…well then, I’ll wait for your call.”

Trujillo hung up, tapping the phone against his lips as he exhaled slowly. He turned, outraged to see that the fat agent with the buck teeth had entered the room unnoticed, as she delicately placed a tray of coffee on the table.

“Out!” He screamed, almost throwing the cell phone at her, as she ducked in reflex.

“Agent Trujillo, I was just bringing you your coffee as ordered -”

“Now, you stupid bitch!”

The agent squeaked in fear and retreated, closing the door behind her.

The IA agent ground his teeth in frustration, as he picked up the coffee and took a sip, cursing as the boiling liquid scalded his tongue.

“Joder!” He opened his cell phone again and hit redial.

___

Montoya slammed the Duarte file on the podium of the precinct briefing room, glaring at it contemptuously, as if the manila folder would mysteriously divulge its secrets.

“Dammit, there’s got to be something here we can use to get Pepa out from IA’s jurisdiction!”

“I can call around.” Salgado offered. “Make some discreet inquiries and try to find out which judge signed the warrant. However, I’m telling you now, this smells of corruption from top to bottom!”

“You two are so by the book!” Curtis scoffed from the corner where he’d been listening. “Me, Pove, Quique and half the precinct can just storm the cell right now and get Pepa out. Let’s worry about the consequences later.”

Povedilla and Quique nodded their heads in vigorous agreement. Salgado opened her mouth to protest as Rita burst into the room, panting.

“Inspector, Commander Salgado!” She huffed, putting her hand against her chest, trying to catch her breath. “You need to hear this!”

The room listened in rapt fascination as she recounted the whole of Trujillo’s phone conversation. Salgado instantly produced her phone to record Rita’s words, as she also took notes, her pen flying across the page.

“That’s it! Agent Peláez, we can use your statement as a basis to get a warrant for Trujillo’s cell phone records and to search his apartment.” The commander said triumphantly. “He’ll see he’s not the only one who can wave a piece of paper around and command others to follow his orders!”

“Trujillo poisoning Silvia and arresting Pepa on someone’s orders?” Montoya shook his head in disbelief. His normally boyish, handsome features were stiff with anger. “Pepa won’t have to go after Trujillo. I’ll kick that man’s ass myself!”

“Ah, ah!” Rita put her hands against the inspector’s chest, stopping him from leaving the room. “You won’t have to worry about Trujillo. I slipped a little something in his coffee. You know, just to make him sleep for a while. And -”

She held up a set of keys, jangling them, as she smiled coyly.

“He was stupid enough to make his temporary office in an interrogation room. I locked him in.” Her smile dropped as her face grew serious. “After all, it’s for his safety. We wouldn’t want anything to happen to our dear Agent Trujillo, would we?”

The others smiled, as a relieved titter of laughter went around the room. Montoya grasped Rita on both sides of her face, kissing her soundly.

“Dios mío! You’re brilliant!” He gushed, as her cheeks turned a deep pink, the flush spreading quickly to her neck.

“Aw, it’s nothing, Montoy-ica!” Rita giggled, slapping his butt for emphasis.

“All right -” Salgado declared in her usual no-nonsense voice. “Montoya, you and Rita take a few agents and the CSI team and go to Trujillo’s apartment. I’ll meet you there with a warrant, even if we have to swim to get there. I’ll place a few agents and my men from CNI here to watch Trujillo.”

“And what about Morales and Pepa?” Curtis asked.

Before she could answer, the door opened and Paco dived through the entrance, a disheveled, wide-eyed wreck. His clothes were wrinkled with deep creases, notwithstanding his handkerchief which dangled from a side pocket, and he sported swelling black eye and a butterfly bandage on his temple.

“Pepa? Dónde está mi hermana?”

“Paco, are you all right?” Salgado took his head in her hands, stroking his cheek affectionately. “Okay, calm down. Pepa’s still here.”

The commander and inspector quickly updated each other, Salgado’s expression growing hard as she heard of Morales’ unprovoked attack on Paco and the details of Pepa’s vicious arrest.

“Vale, Paco. You stay here with Silvia and go with her and Pepa to the hospital.”

“Pepa?” The inspector was confused, wondering if he’d been hit on the head too hard. “But you just said she in lockup!”

“Not to worry. Can your men create a distraction? We’ll get her out safely, with no one else getting hurt.”

“Are you kidding?” Paco stood straight, addressing his men proudly. “My men are experts at making distractions!”

“You see, Agent Naranjo?” Salgado turned and winked at Curtis, which made him give her a thumbs-up in return. “I don’t always play by the rules! Now what we need to do -”

Salgado was interrupted as lighting erupted so close, she could have sworn it was daylight. It was followed instantly by another clap of thunder she could feel reverberate right down to her bones.

As the din of thunder gradually faded, the lights in the room flickered and died, as the entire precinct was pitched into complete darkness.

___

Silvia was confused. She couldn’t tell what time or day it was. Occasionally her father and Dr. Gonzalez’s faces appeared in her line of sight, but not the one she desired the most. Her breath came in shorter bursts as she craned her neck, clenching her fists convulsively, trying to reach something that was hopelessly out of her grasp.

“Pepa?” She moaned, her breath fogging up the oxygen mask. “Dónde? She’s…promised she wouldn’t leave…”

Dr. Gonzalez worriedly read the EKG monitor, showing Silvia’s vitals. Her heartbeat and breathing had become increasingly erratic, despite the IV fluids and a second steroid injection he’d given her.

“She’s becoming increasingly disoriented.” He said to Don Lorenzo, who looked at him with tears brimming in his eyes. “The poison’s advancing and I can’t tell how.”

“What else can you do?” The commissioner asked, his voice breaking as he took his daughter’s hand.

“I can try and give her some standard antidotes for cyanide to see if it slows it down, but it’s risky. Silvia doesn’t have them in the lab, but I instructed the ambulance to bring them.”

Don Lorenzo ripped the two-way radio off his belt, thumbing the button to talk. “Mariano! We need another ETA!”

“Don…fifteen minutes...” Mariano’s voice was barely audible through the static and interference on the line. “…will call…update…”

“Dammit!” The older man felt like throwing the radio through the window, even if he knew it would serve no purpose. “This storm’s fucking up everything from top to bottom!”

As he finished the sentence, the storm answered with its own thunderous retort, before the lab was plunged into darkness.

“Silvia!” Don Lorenzo fumbled for a flashlight and turned it on, directing the beam so that Dr. Gonzalez had a minimal amount of light to see his patient. “Does she still have oxygen?”

“The tank’s independent of needing power, and the gage says she’s still got a half hour left. Plus there’s a backup tank.” The physician reassured him. He glanced over at the EKG machine, which had gone dark. “But I need to see her vitals. If she gets even worse or if we need equipment that requires power -”

“Mierda!” The commissioner glanced up at the ceiling toward the emergency lighting that still remained dark. “The storm must have damaged the precinct’s main generator!”

He handed the flashlight off to the doctor and ran out to the balcony. His eyes adjusted to the blackness as he saw multiple beams cutting arcing holes in the gloom, as he recognized the voices of his officers passing out flashlights to everyone. He grasped the uniform of the first agent he could get his hands on.

“Pove! I need you to go the basement, get the portable generator, some halogen lights and set them up in the lab! Silvia’s life could depend on it!”

“Vale, I’ll get back as fast as I can!” The spectacled agent saluted quickly and ran down the stairs, taking Rocamora with him.

Don Lorenzo went back to his daughter’s side, taking her hand once again.

“Pe?...” Silvia’s voice squeezed out of her throat, with a dangerously sounding tell-tale wheeze.

“She’s coming, hija.” Don Lorenzo tried to keep his voice steady, as he cradled his daughter’s cheek, as if she were a child. “She’s coming.”

___

Pepa’s breathing sped up as the lights went out, plunging the cell into pitch black inkiness. Her panic intensified as she glanced towards where she knew the emergency lights were located, as they lay still and dark.

The precinct’s completely out of power! What if Silvia’s getting worse, what if…?

The agent desperately grasped the bars of the cell, watching as a tiny light illuminated the space in front of her. Morales was sitting, sprawled casually on the metal chair behind the desk, his gun within arm’s reach. He grumbled to himself as he tapped the screen of his cell phone, the small surface lighting up his face and outlining the features of the room.

“Por favor!” Pepa cried, not caring if she begged. “You’ve got to let me out of here! Silvia could die, she needs me!”

Her heart pounded in anticipation as Morales glanced up, his face expressionless. “Por favor, I’ll concede to the charges, I’ll do whatever Trujillo wants of me, I swear! Just let me make sure she’s safe!”

Morales abruptly shifted to his feet, picking up his gun, keeping it pointed downward. Pepa followed him with her eyes as the IA agent approached the cell, daring to hope.

“Get away from the bars, you fucking dyke!” Morales reversed his weapon and slammed the butt of his gun against Pepa’s hand, smiling as the brunette howled in agony, reeling backwards.

“A god damn fiancé? Disgusting!” He snorted as he sat back down.

Pepa cradled her left hand, trying to breathe through the excruciating spikes of pain that lanced all the way down her arm. She closed her eyes, feeling tears leak from beneath her lids, as she knelt on the chilled concrete floor. Silvia. Please God, just keep Silvia safe. She repeated the mantra again and again, hoping for a miracle.

Her head jerked up at the door to the room opened, and she heard a familiar voice.

“Hola? Agent Morales?” Curtis called out, his powerful flashlight beam cutting through the cramped space.

“Hey, you! Get back!” The IA agent stood, his gun at the ready, the firearm trembling uncertainly in his hands. “I have orders to fire upon anyone from San Antonio who tries to speak to the prisoner!”

“But we’re not here to speak to her.” Quique joined in. He held up a second flashlight that was turned off. “We just came in here to give you this.”

“Exactly!” Curtis said jovially, as he accepted the light from his fellow officer as it was handed over. He hefted the heavy, industrial strength object in his hand. “After all, we are extending all our courtesies to the IA agents here. We wanted to make sure you had sufficient light since the power’s out.”

“That’s it?” Morales sounded doubtful as his gun lowered slightly.

“That’s it.” Curtis smiled his widest shit-eating grin. “I’m sorry about those rude comments earlier. You know how it is between us in law enforcement. We just like to bullshit -”

Quicker than Morales could process, the agent’s hand flew up, as the flashlight clocked him soundly in the head. He collapsed in a heap before he could take another breath.

“Dammit, I love these things!” Curtis exclaimed, dropping the long handled metal torch on the ground with a solid clunk. “They’re the best to have in an emergency!”

“Gracias a Dios!” Pepa breathed a sigh of relief as Curtis patted down Morales’ pockets, retrieving the keys to the cell.

“At your service, Agent Miranda!” Quique replied as he relieved the IA agent of his gun, and handcuffed Morales’ arm to the leg of the desk. “Of course, we’ve got to take Agent Morales’ gun and secure him, just to keep him safe.”

“You didn’t think we were going to leave you in here, did you?” The mustached agent winked at Pepa, as she smiled at him.

“Dios, I was hoping you wouldn’t!” Pepa felt the relief flood through her system, overriding the aches from her various injuries. “I figured when Montoya looked at me that you all would come up with something.”

The agent’s grin faded. “Silvia?”

“She’s still here. Don Lorenzo just radioed me that the ambulance has an ETA of ten minutes.” Curtis finally managed to find the right key, as he unlocked the cell door. He patted Pepa on the shoulder giving her a push towards the door. “Go! We’ll help direct the ambulance in when it gets here.”

Worry shot a bolt of adrenaline into Pepa’s system as she ran for the door, followed closely at her heels by her two friends.

___

Pepa dodged the various extension cords snaking around the floor as she dashed down the hallway and through the doorway of the lab. She blinked, her eyes adjusted to the brightness, grateful as she realized that there was a portable generator and lights that had just been set up.

“Silvia? Cariño?” She replaced the gloves on her hands, before taking Silvia’s fingers in her own. Her anxiety ratcheted up as she heard a recognizable, awful sound. “She’s wheezing again! What can you do?”

“I’m trying to keep her stable, Pepa.” Dr. Gonzalez swallowed, his voice sounding strained as he injected another syringe into Silvia’s IV. “But this damn poison keeps accelerating.”

“Hey, hey princesa.” Pepa appeased her partner, focusing all her attention on the dark eyes. “I’m right here. I knew I’d be back.”

The brunette felt a weak squeeze to her fingertips, a sign that her love was still somewhat coherent and had heard her.

“You can hear me, right?” The agent brought her lips down to Silvia’s ear, whispering softly. “You’re going to get through this, so I can keep sharing breakfasts with you. Giving you massages. Making love. Even fighting with you. Like when you’re being so stubborn and can’t admit that you’re wrong -”

Pepa’s voice trembled as tears dripped off her nose. “All that wonderful stuff that makes me love you even more every day.”

Silvia struggled to inhale deeply, her lungs refusing to cooperate as her breath stuck and rattled in her throat. She licked her dry lips under the mask, seeing Pepa’s face and tremulous smile. With a monumental effort, her right arm lifted, to be captured by Pepa’s warm grasp. And she knew, with ultimate clarity, how she wanted to spend her last moments.

“P…” Her lips formed the letter, as her lungs seized again.

“Shh, don’t try to talk.” The agent’s pulse spiked as she gently laid her free hand on Silvia’s forehead.

“Po -” Silvia’s eyes rolled back in her head, her dizziness increased, as she fought to stay conscious.

“Cariño, what are you saying?” Pepa was terrified as she felt Silvia squeeze her hand so tightly, her knuckles were white with strain. “Are you trying to say my name? I’m right here!”

“Pove…” A ragged whisper.

Pove? What the? Pepa’s mind had no more said the words before she turned her head, yelling. “Pove! Pove, we need you!”

“Qué?” The agent stumbled into the room, literally dragged by Don Lorenzo. He stood at the head of the examination table, near Silvia’s head. “What can I do?”

“Mar - marry us…”

“Qué?” Povedilla gulped, as his nerves overtook him.

“You heard her!” Pepa snapped. “Marry us!”

“But, but…” The agent rubbed his sweaty palms on his pants. “But, I still haven’t memorized all my lines, I mean -”

“NOW!!” Pepa shouted, feeling Silvia start to shake unnaturally.

“Vale, vale.” Povedilla took a deep breath, as he closed his eyes in concentration. “Dear - dearly beloved, we are gathered here today -”

The small man’s glasses were nearly knocked off his face as Pepa slapped him soundly.

“Just skip to the end!” The brunette demanded.

“Vale.” Povedilla crossed himself, gathering his courage as he saw Pepa look down, holding Silvia’s gaze. “Pepa, you love Silvia, sí?”

“With everything that I am.” Pepa affirmed softly, seeing a single tear trickle down Silvia’s cheek.

“Silvia, you love Pepa?”

“…ssí….” Silvia’s vision of Pepa’s face was starting to fade, as she felt a strange calmness overtake her. She was done. She was truly happy.

Povedilla removed his glasses, wiping the salty tears off his face. “Then, by the power vested in me, and as your colleague and friend, I pronounce you joined in matrimony. Congratulations.”

As if she was already outside of herself, Silvia felt herself reaching upwards, removing the oxygen mask. Her other hand tangled in Pepa’s shirt as she pulled her close, pressing her lips against her wife’s for a tender, passionate kiss.

The kiss seemed to stretch out infinitely as Silvia saw her most precious moments flash through her mind. Feeling a giddy joy and amazement as she saw Pepa’s face in the shooting gallery. Sensing a shy finger stretching out to touch her hand as they gazed at the constellations together. Asking for a dancing lesson she didn’t even need, but desperately wanted. Spending a magical night together that started in a bathroom, where she gave into a love that she’d had for as long as she could remember. Learning how to walk together and love together in a hanger. How a mere touch of the hand and look in a café could give her hope for the future, despite the gut wrenching time spent apart. The tentative kiss and the warmth of a hug in a hospital room. Feeling her hormones sing through her body as long fingers caressed her backside in a parking garage. Finding the courage to propose and her unbridled happiness when the answer was yes. Going through the trials of Pepa’s shooting and the aftermath, only to find out she was as in love with her as ever.

Pepa smiled softly as they parted, seeing a calmness in Silvia’s eyes that made her fear ebb, if only for a moment. She was married to the woman she loved. Her mind marveled at the truth of it, knowing that no law or decree would ever change this inevitable fact.

“Here, let’s put this back on.” The brunette placed the oxygen mask back on Silva’s face, watching her eyes flutter closed. “Just rest now, vale? We’ll have a big party later, when you’re feeling better.”

Silvia’s fingers seized Pepa’s arm so hard, she was forced to clamp her lips together to keep a groan from escaping. Pepa’s eyes widened in horror as her wife’s body began to violently jerk and convulse sporadically. She threw her other arm across Silvia’s frame to try and keep her still, but it did no good.

“What’s happening?” she cried, feeling her insides twist cruelly, as if she were experiencing Silvia’s pain.

“She’s going into shock!” Dr. Gonzalez exclaimed, reaching into Silvia’s medical bag for a syringe. “Pepa. Pepa, you have to move so I can help her!”

Pepa shook her head, disbelieving, as she looked at Silvia’s face. Strangely, it remained perfectly serene, as if she was asleep. Like the mornings where Pepa would wake up and look down at her partner’s face, observing her at rest before she awoke. A study of peace. Without worry or fear. And a slight curving of the lips in a smile, as if she subconsciously knew she was in the arms of the one she loved.

It was then that Pepa realized that Silvia had stopped convulsing. Her ears began to buzz, not processing what she was hearing. Voices that sounded anxious, muffled. Hands that were pulling at her shoulders. The buzz slowly morphed into a steady, whining drone - a relentless, piercing sound. Her tear-filled eyes went to Silvia’s EKG monitor, seeing the flat, uncompromising line.

“She’s not breathing! She’s in cardiac arrest!” Dr. Gonzalez reached for the defibrillator, turning it on and waiting precious seconds for it to charge.

___

The storm continued to rage outside, the wind whipping the rain and debris around in furious gusts. But above the tempest, Pepa’s howl of grief could be heard, which then morphed into excruciating sobs.