PG-13 Fanfic "Playing With Fire Chapter 4 of 9"
Title: "Playing With Fire Pt. 4"
Author: Rebecca Bradstreet
Rated: PG-13
Pair: John/Becca
Archived: http://www.angelfire.com/scifi/shieldbearer/PlayingWithFirePt4.html
Summary: John's in the hospital, and Becca blames herself.
Warning: Darkness, and death.
Disclaimer/Notes: This is a Profiler/Anita Blake Vampire Hunter Crossover. I don't own John Grant, Bailey Malone, or any other Profiler character. I don't own Rudolph Storr, Jean-Claude or any other Anitaverse character. I do own Rebecca Belinda "Becca" Drake. After all she is just a dragon version of me. I've include the end of Part Three at the beginning of this part inside <<>>. I use // for thoughts, and ** as emphasis. This isn't beta'd so all mistakes are my own. ;)
"Playing With Fire Pt. 4"
Rebecca Bradstreet (c) 2001
St Louis
Warehouse
Wednesday Feb 21, 2001
<< Becca leaned forward and kissed her tears from his face. She kissed Grant's cheeks, and his lips. Becca repeated her plea, "Don't leave me John. I love you." >>
The sirens were far away at first then closer. The EMTs rushed into the warehouse, and began to put Grant on a stretcher. Drake was numb but she had one thought in her head as she clung to John; holding his hand as the EMTs worked around her. Becca remembered him promising her, "I will go with you every step of the way," and squeezing her hand.
Hospital
Thursday Feb 22, 2001
Grant slept covered with wires and tubes. His breathing was steady and even. The monitors agreed he was stable. Drake slept in a chair pulled up next to his bed; the blanket the EMTs had wrapped around her in the ambulance still draped over her shoulders. She hadn't been allowed in the OR or into his room at first, but some time the hospital had decided it was best to let her in. Becca's head rested on the side of his bed, and one of her hands was wrapped tight around his free one. Bailey tried to slide quietly into the room to check on them. Grant blinked at him sleepily.
"Sorry, Becca's been here...going on 24 hours now. Once they let her in here there was no getting her back out..." Malone shook his head smiling gently.
"Going on 24 hours?" John's voice was startled, but soft. He might have spoken louder, but he was being careful not to wake Drake.
"You've been here about that long, John. They had a hard enough time getting her to let go of you long enough to stitch you up. She hasn't budge from that chair since they let her have it. I'm glad to see you around. I was beginning to worry she might kill me." Bailey's smile broadened.
"Kill you?" Grant asked.
"Fear of *this* is one of the reasons Becca didn't want to come back. She says, 'Humans have short enough life spans without chasing after monsters.' Becca couldn't know what the two of you would run into at that warehouse, but she feels responsible anyway. She was a damn good agent." There was sadness in Malone's eyes briefly before he shook his head.
"I guess I can tell Dolph, and Jean-Claude everything's going to be all right. You seem to have made some impression on the Master of the City when you met him," Bailey observed casually.
"Becca did all the talking," John answered with a grin. Malone left, and for a while Grant lay quietly watching Drake sleep. Eventually she stirred. Becca had great bags under her eyes, and there were red traces of the wrinkled sheets on her cheek.
"I'm sorry," were the first words out of her mouth not, "you're awake." Bailey had been right she was letting guilt eat at her for not protecting him at the warehouse.
"For what?" John asked, looking at her like he thought she was being *really* foolish, and sweet.
"For not sweeping the place thoroughly before I let you in. For not sticking closer to you once I let you in. For..." Drake trailed off sure there were other things she should be apologizing for, but not managing to think of them.
"Would you have found it if you'd made the sweep alone? Could you have stopped it if you'd been glued to my hip?" He didn't ask the questions with any anger in his voice just curiosity.
"I think it was some kind of spell or curse. If it was keyed for humans...no I probably wouldn't have sensed it, or been able to stop it before it...before it connected." Becca hated admitting that she might not have been able to do anything, but she had to.
"Then don't apologize. You did what you could when you could. I'm alive. Do you think I'll start turning furry once a month?" Grant was trying to tease her with the question, but she could see he was also worried about it.
"Maybe. I wish I knew more about what it was. John..." Drake leaned in close to him. Becca was getting tired of talking. She wanted to kiss him, but she was afraid of how he might respond to it.
"I guess turning furry once a month beats being dead," Grant grinned.
"Yeah, I've heard that," Drake grinned back.
"Becca, I know I'm kind of fuzzy what with the blood loss, and medication, but when do you think you might get around to kissing me again?" John smiled bright, warm, and inviting. Drake's mind didn't process the fact he was asking for a kiss at first. It hung on the "again". Becca decided John had been aware of her kiss in the warehouse -- remembered it. When her brain got passed the "again" she answered his question with, "No time like the present?"
Becca leaned into kiss him very aware of the wires and tubes he was covered with. John kept his eyes on hers as she leaned forward. He met her lips, and as they kissed he pulled his hand from hers trying to put it around her. Becca laughed nervously, and pulled away from him worried about his safety. Grant watched her sit back down in the chair she'd been sleeping in, and wondered if she'd go rest in a bed if he told her to.
"Bailey says you've been here going on 24 hours. You could use some rest in a bed," John observed softly.
"They wouldn't let me have a cot. They thought I wouldn't be able to sleep in a chair," Drake grinned at the folly of their thinking.
"There are real beds back at the hotel," Grant pointed out cautiously.
"I...I wanted -- needed to be here. John, I love you," Becca took his free hand once more in hers, and squeezed it.
"I know. I love you too," he smiled squeezing her hand.
"I was hoping," she smiled looking close to tears.
Bailey stepped into the room behind her, and Becca's face fell into a friendly smile before she turned to flash it at Malone, "You've been talking to John while I've been asleep no fair."
"You need to get some real sleep. I thought John might be able to talk you into getting it," Bailey told her looking unrepentant. Drake stood and looked down at Grant.
"If I go get some real sleep in a real bed you better be all right while I'm gone," Becca told John.
"I've got the finest medical staff in St Louis looking after me. I'll be all right Becca get some sleep," Grant squeezed Drake's hand once more then pulled his hand from hers.
"They better take *very* good care of you," Becca said fiercely, leaning down to kiss John lightly on his forehead before leaving.
Hotel
Bailey's Room
Thursday Feb 22, 2001
"Bailey...I want back into the Bureau. I want my badge back. No one else is being my badge on this case," Drake told Malone as they stood in his room. It was the first day in St Louis Becca had set foot in his room. Bailey knew she was uncomfortable standing in it.
"Who says you're still working this case?" Malone asked pushing her to let him know she was still up to it.
"Who says? You *aren't* taking me off this case. This thing isn't just going to keep killing it's going to continue to kill more and more people. Two at the first house, three at the second, and four at the third; it's just getting warmed up. You brought me in because you needed my help to find it. It won't be any easier to stop. Give me back my badge, Bailey," Drake told him her voice tight with a mix of emotions. Malone moved to the table next to the bed in his room. He pulled out of it her badge, and gun.
"You better be able to still qualify with that. You aren't allowed to miss as a Special Agent, Becca," Bailey smiled giving her her gun.
"I can still qualify with it. Thank you, Bailey. I'll catch this thing. Catch it after I catch up on my sleep. John's room is it..." She wasn't quite sure she had the right to ask if it was locked, emptied, or waiting for him.
"It's fine just as he'll be Becca. Get your sleep," Malone herded her out of his room. She stood in the hall briefly trying to decide where she was going to get her sleep. Becca headed for her hotel room -- headed for it, tried to sleep in it, and left it for John's. She let herself into his room, and slept in the bed he'd been sleeping in...before he'd been attacked by someone who was going to be very *very* sorry.
Hotel
John's Room
Friday Feb 23, 2001
Becca became slowly aware of someone else in the room. She was in John's room who the Hell else would be in it besides her, and why would they be hovering on the edge of her awareness. Becca rolled on to her back, and grumped into the dark hotel room, "Who goes there?"
"It is only me, ma flammeche," Jean-Claude smiled at her as he turned on the lamp on the night table.
"Malone informed me that your...partner is recovering, and I came to see if *you* are," he sat on the bed, and reached out to her, brushing some of her hair out of her face.
"Jean-Claude, even if I wasn't a *4,000* year old dragon, yesterday I became once more a woman with a gun too. If I thought for *one* second you sent us into that warehouse knowing what was going to happen," she didn't elaborate on the if.
"You aren't considering that. If you were you wouldn't have reminded me what you are, nor told me that Malone has brought you back into the Bureau. I'm sorry that I didn't know what I was sending you into. You care very much for Agent Grant," Jean-Claude said the last as an almost question.
"John, his name is John. Yeah, I care *very* much for him. Wonders of wonders he seems to reciprocate my feelings. If we both live through this who knows," Becca shrugged as she sat up, and tucked her hair behind her ears.
"Who knows. Do you think this thing is a danger to you?" He asked looking concerned.
"Not sure. There are too many damn things in this case I'm not sure about -- what's killing people, what nearly killed John, and how those two things are related. You do realize that I am supposed to be catching up on the sleep I lost sitting in hospital chairs?" She pulled her knees up under her chin, and stared at him.
"I know that. I also know you don't sleep well on a case even when no one has been injured working on them," Jean-Claude told her gently.
"No I don't. There are nine people dead, John is lying in a hospital bed a few pints short without any help from you," Becca smiled at him weakly.
"I studied the warehouse, Becca. Some of my wolves studied it. We could sense an unnatural chill in the place, but we could find no sign of ritual -- sense no trap," He frowned. She reached out and squeezed his arm.
"I guess there is more than enough guilt to go around," Becca grinned at him.
"Ma petite says, 'Guilt is a many splendored thing,'" Jean-Claude flashed her a toothy grin.
"Sounds like a wise lady," she looked as if she wanted to ask him a question, but she held whatever it was back.
"Wise? I shall pass that along to her," he laughed his touchable laugh.
"I can almost feel John in here, but... I started this case with him, but I'm going to have to finish it on my own," Becca closed her eyes, and Jean-Claude could tell she was holding back tears.
"You can finish this case without him ma flammeche. You just need some more rest," he stood, and placed a hand on her shoulder encouraging her to lie back down.
"Maybe I do," Becca nodded leaning back, and stretching out her legs.
"Jean-Claude...I nearly lost him," she opened her eyes, caught his eyes with hers, and held them for a moment before she closed her eyes once more.
"John is all right Becca. Rest. Agent Malone will be by to wake you soon enough," he pulled the sheets up around her, and kissed her on her forehead.
"Bailey, his name is Bailey," Becca grumped through the pillow as she snuggled deeper into the bed.
"I know," Jean-Claude smiled as he left.
Cafe
Friday 23, 2001
"RPIT's been over the warehouse," Malone informed Drake over their breakfast.
"And?" Becca asked Bailey.
"Their Detective Reynolds thinks some kind of ritual was performed there. She thinks John was injured by a spell left to guard against anyone finding any sign of the ritual," Malone put down his coffee, and waited for Drake's response.
"A masked ritual would explain why Jean-Claude couldn't find any sign of a ritual in the warehouse. But why didn't it attack him or me?" Becca asked Bailey as she pushed her scrambled eggs around on her plate.
"It was sensitive to whether or not an intruder was preternatural? An attack on either of you would only tip you off. John was human it could kill him?" Malone suggested taking a sip of his coffee.
"I was there. Attacking John with me right there was kind of a tip off," Drake set her fork down, shook her head, and closed her eyes.
"You saved him Becca. It disintegrated. Reynolds said she'd like to know how you did it. I told her that's confidential," Bailey reached across the table and squeezed Becca's hand.
"I just bet she would," Drake said her voice tight.
"You are a Special Agent of the FBI. Everything about you is on a need to know basis, and she doesn't need to know," Malone grinned at her.