One step, Two steps part 5

[tamoline]

Title: One step, Two steps part 5
Author:Tamoline
Rating: PG-13
Fandom: Orphan Black
Pairing: Sarah/Beth

Warning: Suicide attempt, suicidal thoughts

Summary: One step.

Two steps.

Three steps.

I reach the edge of the platform.

Or - the AU where Sarah grabs Beth before she goes off the platform. There are still a lot of steps left.

Author's note - So, contrary to my promises, this is not actually the last part. One section, put in to resolve a couple of Chekov's guns, got a little away from me. Ah well. Hopefully you, my readers, won't mind too much. And, hey, my inspiration has been on *fire* the last few days, so you're even getting this part early.

"When are we going to get to the point of me actually shooting a gun?" Sarah asks with a disgruntled tone in her voice.

"When I'm convinced that you won't be a greater danger to me than any opponent you might face," I respond coolly before continuing with the exercise.

Given much of the reason we're doing this is the not-unlikely event of Sarah having to actually use a gun, my lesson is starting off with a small course on gun safety. Constant awareness of what she's pointing at, trigger discipline, keeping the gun unloaded except when she intends to use it - that sort of thing. I'm trying to use the same kind of structured lessons that I was taught with.

From the expression on her face, I'm fast approaching the point of negative returns.

It's probably time to move to the shooting practise section of the lesson.

I just hope that I'll have time to instruct her further before we have to test these skills in the field.

"Okay," I tell her and hand her a pair of ear muffs. "Put these on," I say before putting on my own pair.

"Finally," she says and follows suit.

I toss her a magazine. "Let's see you load the gun."

I'm glad to see that at least this part of the lesson seems to have stuck as she does so smoothly.

She even remembers to point the gun well away from me as she raises it and aims towards the targets I set up earlier.

Maybe I'm not going to die due to overenthusiastic friendly fire after all.

She's got completely the wrong posture, of course, and that's the next thing to correct. "Move this leg forward a bit," I say, patting the offending limb, then stand back a moment. "No, no, stand more like this," I say, demonstrating. We'd already been over this, but...

"That's good," I say. "Now remember to hold onto the grip tightly with all your fingers *except* the index and..."

There's a loud retort as she fires the gun.

She misses the target, of course, but the technique isn't bad for a beginner.

"Good," I tell her. "Now try that again."

She's a quick study - just like I was, just like Alison was - and only has a few bad firing habits that I have to break her of.

It's in the middle of that, when I'm standing behind her, moulding my body to hers in a last ditch attempt to correct the posture she keeps on adopting after that first shot, that I become abruptly aware of the body pressed against mine.

And.

Oh.

This isn't like it was with Alison.

It's not like that at all.

I almost spring away from her, my face flaming.

"We can work on that another time," I say quickly, almost babbling. "Just... just try some practise shooting by yourself for a while."

Sarah gives me a long look - lowering her gun to point at the ground first - before returning her attention to the targets and starting to fire.

Leaving me to my embarrassment, my humiliation.

Because this isn't right.

It isn't right at all.

And I can't believe that the first time I've really felt aroused in... in *months* without serious effort and... and...

It isn't Paul.

It isn't anyone I can actually *have*.

It isn't fair at all.

To my utter relief, the flash doesn't recur, though I make sure to minimise any contact, just in case. After the shooting lesson is one in the basics of surveillance and counter-surveillance. Both what I'd learned on the job and the extras that Katja had passed on.

In general, she shows good awareness and quickly learns the principles of on foot surveillance, including some truly remarkable skills at quickly breaking up her profile with clothes, posture and adornments.

Really, it's a pity that most of the people we'd really want to follow are probably going to know what we look like.

Though that should be useful in losing a tail.

Still, there's only so much I can impart in one afternoon and certainly only so much I can teach before I start reaching her boredom threshold.

And I haven't even touched the techniques she'd have to use whilst in a car. Maybe, if I do manage to return to work, I can get her up to a point where I can sign myself up for a refresher course in offensive and defensive driving and have her attend.

It'd certainly be useful to have a second person with that set of skills.

"So," she says, panting a little after the chase I just led her through. "What's next?"

"Now I use the remnants of the day to pursue some leads on the shooter. I don't know what you want to do." I can't help smiling a little. This last part has reminded me a little of tag, in its own way.

It's been almost easy, just being here with her.

She thinks for a moment. "Any chance you can drop me off near Paul's workplace?"

Even if it's not me doing this, just the thought is enough to rid my of any good humour I might have. "You want to do that now?"

"What better time for his doting girlfriend to arrange a surprise for when he gets back on Monday?" she asks. "Which reminds me - what would make a good gift?"

I think for a moment, back to a time when we did get each other little spontaneous presents, just for the joy of giving.

That hadn't been true in too long. Now a gift meant things - like an apology or a metered out obligation like a birthday or an anniversary.

"Red carnations."

Sarah raises her eyebrows. "Really?" she asks in a tone of some amusement.

I bite back a defensive retort of 'Is there a problem with that?' because, really, given that we're planning on bugging his office, it'd be more than a little hypocritical. Instead, I content myself with, "You asked for a present."

"Sure, sure," she says. "A few arrangements of red carnations coming up."

I pull up near the office, but she pauses rather than get out immediately.

"I'm going to see my daughter tonight, for the first time in ten months," she says, looking away from me.

I resist the urge to ask for more. "Is there anything I can do?"

"Nah," she says. "Just... just thought you should know."

I can't help feeling warmth flood through me. "Thanks," I say. "And good luck."

I blow into the apartment a little after seven.

"Paul?" I call.

Nothing.

Thank god. I don't know how I'd cope if... if.

Of course, he's going to be back tomorrow in any case. And I'll deal with that... with the waiting to see if surveillance turns up anything... somehow.

Just thinking about it drives me to the bathroom, and my pills.

One pill.

Two pills.

Three.

Just enough to take the edge off, help things become a little blurry.

Make everything not hurt as much.

I don't even want to think about how I'm going to live with him, with this.

And I still haven't managed to get anywhere with any of the dealers that I visited this afternoon.

I slump onto the sofa, switch the TV on and turn the channel to... some reality program or other.

Just something to have on in the background.

Something to make the time disappear.

I jump when the phone rings, disturbing me from the trance I'd fallen into.

The pink phone.

"Hello?"

I hope I don't sound as bleary as I feel.

"Sarah," Felix says. "Vic's here and he's got a gun."

"What?" I say, a little dizzily. "I'm Beth."

There's some shouting in the background that I don't quite catch.

"He's getting really insistent about those drugs you stole," he continues loudly, as if he hadn't heard me. "He wants either them back or the money."

Oh, I think, as the world slides back into focus. The fuzziness doesn't fade completely, but the edges sharpen a enough to let me process this.

Vic. Ex-boyfriend. Drug dealer. Trouble.

Crap.

I really don't need this. Especially not on top of everything else.

"How much does he want?"

More shouting.

"He's not going to be satisfied with anything less than the fifteen grand they totally weren't worth," Felix says, then, "Ow! It's not my fault if they were complete shite!"

"Tell him I'll be there in... half an hour." I'm not tracking perfectly, but if I splash my face with some cold water, I should be good to drive.

"Sooner the better," he says before I ring off.

Crap.

What do I do?

I can't help wondering if Sarah is really worth this, despite... despite everything.

If she's going to cause more trouble, even if I manage to solve this crisis.

I'm finding it hard to care about that, though, and I don't think it's just the drugs talking.

She's important.

She's important to me.

And she has a *daughter*.

Fine, then. It's decided.

First step - get rid of Vic.

I guess it's just as well I've still got all that cash here.

"Babe!" Vic shouts as soon as Felix's door slides open. "You came!"

He's got a gun, pointed in my direction.

Well, at Felix actually, but Felix was the one to open the door, and Vic's hand is distinctly shaky so...

It's as good as pointed at me.

The phrase 'sloppy trigger discipline' drifts through my mind, a remnant from earlier.

Wonderful.

I'd feel more scared, but the pills are at least helping with that.

"Of course I came," I say.

"What's with the accent?" he asks, then shrugs. "Tell me later. I need the cash right now."

"Here it is," I wave a full envelope, and walk slowly, slowly towards him, keeping an eye on his weapon as it bobs and weaves all over the place.

"Thanks, love," he says as he takes it off me. He then leans in and presses a kiss against my lips, which I endure.

The drugs help.

"Maybe I should get you to do this for me full time," he says, grinning, as he counts the cash, always keeping an eye on me. And then his expression freezes. "There's only fourteen grand here," he says, a threatening tone entering his voice.

The shortfall was part of the plan - but all of a sudden, it doesn't seem quite so smart anymore.

If only I could think more quickly.

"That's all I could get for it so soon," I say. Confronted with an angry Vic armed with a gun, it's not hard to put a note of panic in my voice, even through the numbness.

"I need that money. Babe," he says, pocketing the cash. "I don't think you understand how this works," he adds, raising his free hand as if he's going to strike me.

I just need him to be distracted for a moment.

But he never takes his eyes off me.

"No, Vic, you *arsehole*, I don't think *you* understand how this works," Felix says.

He's now over by his bedroom, and he's pointing the gun I gave Sarah earlier calmly at Vic.

I'm fairly sure that the safety's on, but you'd never know that from Felix's eyes.

Vic raises his hands, a placating smile now plastered over his face. "Hey, Felix. You know I was only messing about, right? I wasn't really going to hurt her."

As soon as his attention is off me, I have my own gun unholstered and pointed at Vic.

And my safety is most definitely off.

"Put the gun down, Vic. Slowly," I say.

"Whoa," he says. "Let's just keep calm here."

"Put it down *now*, Vic."

He puts his gun down on the floor.

"Now step away."

This is more according to the script.

I can handle this.

"The fourteen grand is all I got, Vic. Chalk the rest down as a loss. So just turn around and walk away. I don't want to hear from you again. I don't want to see you again. Because if I do, things are going to get unpleasant. You don't want things to become unpleasant, Vic."

"Do you really want to throw away what we had?" he asks, now with a pleading tone in his voice. "Because we were good, babe. We were really good together."

"I don't care, Vic. It's over. It's time to walk away and not look back."

He takes a step towards me, slowly arms outstretched as if he's going to hug me.

I...

I pull the trigger.

Deafening noise fills the apartment.

The person in front of me drops to the ground.

Abomination, echoes in my ears.

Abomination.

Abomination.

"Fuckfuckshitfuckfuckfuckmotherfuckerfuckfuckfuckfuck..."

I blink.

The body - Vic - is holding his hands over his head with a continuous stream of expletives issuing from his mouth.

He's alive.

He's not even hurt.

I...

I fired over his head.

I just about manage to retain my grip on the pistol, but it's too heavy to do anything other than point at the ground.

Felix inches over, and toes Vic in the ribs.

"C'mon, Vic. Time to get your bloody carcass out of here."

I can't help following it with, 'Before it becomes a bloody carcass,' in my mind.

It's not funny, not funny at all, but I have to stifle a giggle anyway.

Vic looks upwards cautiously.

I manage to twitch my gun slightly in his direction.

He goes even paler than he already is, and scuttles for the door.

Felix walks after him, and I hear the door open and close again.

"Come on love, let's get you settled," he says, before slowly and cautiously putting his arm around me. When I don't react, he guides me towards the sofa and gets me to sit.

I've still got my gun in my hands.

I slip the safety on, and take the magazine out.

"Give me Sarah's gun," I say, and do the same for that as well.

After I've put the guns down, Felix pokes his head into view and examines my face.

"You are *completely* fucked, aren't you?"

I try to smile. "I think I'll need to stay here for a while, if you don't mind." God only knows how I managed to drive here without an accident.

"That sounds like an excellent idea." He waves a hand around vaguely, gesturing at the surroundings. "Mi casa est su casa, and all that bollocks. Is there anything I can get you from my bounteous selection?"

"What do you have that isn't alcoholic?"

Alcohol... alcohol seems like a bad idea at the moment.

He wrinkles his face in distaste. "Eh, water?"

"I'll be fine," I say and sink against the arm of the sofa. "I'll be completely fine."

He appears with a blanket and tucks it in around me. "Thank you for riding to the rescue like that. Especially given the state you're in."

I manage an actual smile. "Sorry about that. Messing things up, I mean."

"So your execution was a little off. Happens to the best of us. Nice instincts about the money, though."

"Yeah, well. If Sarah was too good about coming up with the cash, he'd be back for more."

"I imagine that we've headed *that* off." He looks at me for moment, musing. "You're a good egg, you know that. Never thought I'd say *that* about a cop."

"Thanks. Appreciate that."

We lapse into silence for... a while.

At some point, Felix disappears from view, but I don't really remember when.

The next point of clarity is Sarah opening the door and entering the apartment.

She blinks. "Beth?"

"Hi," I say.

It's still hard to muster up much emotion.

Far easier to drift.

"What are *you* doing here?"

"Vic turned up here with a gun, looking for compensation," Felix's voice announces from the direction of the bedroom. "Your white knight tore over here, despite being half blitzed, to sort everything out."

Sarah glares at Felix, then looks at me with something approaching worry. "What happened?"

"Vic has been paid off, mostly, and sent scurrying away with his tail between the legs," Felix continues. He mimes a walking motion with his fingers, then clasps his hands together in an exaggerated pleading gesture. "*Please* don't spoil all our hard work by getting back together with the git after this, will you?"

If looks could kill, Felix would be an ex-friend right now.

"I had to shoot him," I say. "Shoot over him, I mean," I correct.

Oh, Sarah mouths, eyes round and concerned. "Fee," she says, hardly sparing him a glance. "Can you lose yourself down the pub for an hour or two?"

"Very well," he says, all pouting and dramatic indignation. "I know when I'm not wanted." He grabs a coat and winds a scarf around his neck. He pauses by Sarah, resting one hand on her shoulder and leaning in close. "Be careful with her," he murmurs, so quietly I almost can't make his words out.

She briefly grips his hand, and just nods without looking in his direction.

Once he's out the door, she comes and squats in front of me. "Thanks for looking after Fee," she says, resting one hand gently on my arm.

"I had to," I say.

"No," she says, and it almost looks like her eyes are wet. "You didn't. But you did. You took care of my mess." She bites her lip for a moment, then leans forward and gently presses a kiss to my cheek.

I...

I almost feel something.

Almost.

And then, "I almost shot him," I whisper. "I thought I had, for a moment."

"You did the right thing," she says, fiercely. "You were protecting Fee, protecting us." She pauses, then goes on. "Just like you did the right thing before. Maggie Chen was dangerous. You were protecting Alison and Cosima and even me. Even though we didn't know each other yet. You were still protecting all of us."

And, somehow, that's exactly what I need to hear.

What I've needed to hear.

All this time, ever since the shooting, people have been telling me that it wasn't my fault, that it was just an accident.

But all those words had been worth precisely shit. Because it *had* been my fault, it *hadn't* been an accident.

I did the right thing.

I'm not sure if I believe it, not yet.

But I needed to hear it.

Oh god, I needed to hear it.

"Thank you," I say, and realise that I'm crying again.

But this time, in front of her, it doesn't feel so much like a mistake.