The Right to Love - Part 3

[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: PG-13. Not a lot of action yet, but an angst warning here!

Pairing: Pepa/Silvia (Badass agent and cute lab geek!)

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. Yay - so happy to have my writing mojo back since this chapter practically wrote itself - okay, and I had a lot of notes on it! I’m sorry for the angst I’m inflicting on the girls, but it can’t be all PepSi smut all the time! ;p

[ Part 1] [ Part 2]


Silvia opened the front door and stooped down on the porch to pick up a copy of El País, the newspaper that was delivered to the house on a daily basis. She moved to sit at the kitchen table, idly flipping through the sections while sipping her coffee. Her face broke out into a smile as she read the headline on the front page of the local edition - ‘Comisario Principal Vargas Decorates Super Agents’. A large color picture of Comisario Vargas shaking Pepa’s hand was prominently displayed under the headline, with Silvia standing beside her, the pride in her expression unmistakable. There was also a smaller byline article with a picture of a beaming Povedilla, enthusiastically displaying his medal.

The inspector read the piece, which was actually quite well written and detailed, amused that it included Vargas’ quote about Pepa and her being ‘super agents’. She took another sip of her coffee and sighed, her fingers running over the thin newsprint, grateful that the story had made her smile - the first time she’d managed to do so all morning.

She’d woken up after a thankfully dreamless, deep sleep in the protective circle of Pepa’s arms. Silvia had taken a moment to observe Pepa, her exhaustion and anxiety evident even in slumber. The face that was normally so open, with its wide, gorgeous smile and shining eyes, instead displayed multiple worry lines and a distinct grimace, as if Pepa was in intense pain. With shaking fingers, Silvia traced the fresh tearstains on her fiancé’s cheeks, her heart overburdened with guilt for the anguish she was causing her lover.

Dios! She must have been watching over me the entire time I slept! Both touched and saddened by the realization, Silvia gently kissed away the salty wetness on Pepa’s cheeks, sighing in relief as she watched the lines on her face gradually disappear.

“That’s it, cariño.” Silvia whispered, as her fingers mapped the curve of Pepa’s face. “It’s your turn to rest now.” With another kiss to the dark locks, Silvia had gotten up, carefully tucking the covers around her partner’s tall form.

Gathering her things and getting ready for the day, Silvia softly entered the bedroom to check on Pepa one last time. Kneeling down by the bed, she smoothed dark strands of hair out of closed eyes, reassured that her fiancé was still sleeping soundly.

“Pepa, I’m going to the precinct for a few hours…” Silvia whispered, as if she could send a subliminal message to her while slept. “I’ll be home soon. Try not to worry so much about me, vale?”

The agent stirred slightly, her hand instinctively finding and curling around her partner’s. She never awoke, but her lips curved into a slight smile, causing Silvia to laugh lightly.

“Mi caballero. Siempre.”

___

“Buenos días Papa.” Silvia greeted her father as she made her way up the main staircase towards her lab.

“Hola hija.” Don Lorenzo paused and gave his daughter the customary kiss on her forehead. He paused, noting that even though she looked as sharp and professional as ever, there was an underlying weariness in the way she carried herself. The turbulent emotions reflected in her eyes were also a dead giveaway that his youngest was holding something back.

“Cómo estás? Are you sure you want to come in today?”

The forensic scientist sighed, slightly aggravated. She was getting tired of everyone asking about her well being. “Sí, Papa. I’m just here for a half day. You know that I haven’t been in the lab since Pepa got injured and I’m weeks behind in processing evidence and paperwork.”

“Well, the rest of the CSI guys have been filling the holes.”

A quirked eyebrow. “Sí, but you know I prefer to do the job myself.”

“You see? That’s why I assigned you as the head of the forensics department! Such a perfectionist as always!” The older man chuckled. “Oh, I almost forgot.” He reached into his suit pocket and produced a DVD. “Since Jimenez is our resident IT agent, he made this up for you. It’s all the press from yesterday - the ceremony, interviews, photos, the works.”

“Ooh, I don’t know if I like hearing myself as a sound bite, but I’ll take any chance to watch Pepa in uniform!” Silvia’s eyes lit up as she took the DVD, watching her father smirk knowingly.

“Vale. Have a good day, cariño.” Don Lorenzo nodded goodbye, while heading towards his office. He opened the door and turned to watch his daughter’s retreating back, contemplating. I’m going to have to keep an eye on mi hija - if she thinks she’s fooled me into thinking that nothing’s wrong, she’s got another thing coming.

___

Silvia exhaled in relief as she let herself into her lab and leaned back against the cool surface of the metal door. Not having been in the room for almost three weeks, she felt an instant sense of contentment, being in the workspace that was her second home, her sanctuary. From the rows of bottles, medical texts and binders on shelves to the microscope and lab table, all the sights were familiar, comforting objects - almost like old friends. It was here she could simply work and take her mind off her nightmares and drive away her fears. Silvia knew she’d be successful in that if she just buried herself in details and logic, she was sure of it.

Sliding her labcoat on, the inspector set about neatly arranging the various files, evidence folders and boxes that had piled up in her absence, muttering to herself.

“All right - this goes there…that here...Dios, what has that new CSI agent been doing? He couldn’t properly file to save his ass!” More shuffling, more muted grumbling as Silvia got her workspace back to the way she wanted it. “There! Much better!”

Setting her cell phone on silent and selecting the top folder off a large stack, Silvia settled at her desk, going through field reports on evidence gathered at recent cases. She made corrections or notes in a bright red pen, occasionally pecking away at her laptop, doing further research. A few hours passed, unnoticed, as the inspector donned a pair of latex exam gloves and moved to processing physical evidence in various containers. She selected the first box, reading the evidence tag on it, dictating into her digital voice recorder.

“Chief Forensics Inspector Silvia Castro, logging evidence box 015170. Case number 019130. The tactical vest of Agent…”

Silvia’s voice faded as her hands pulled out a tattered Kevlar vest from the evidence box. Swallowing to wet an abruptly parched throat, she continued dictating. “….Agent Pepa Miranda.”

The inspector was ashamed to find that her hands were starting to tremble as she laid the vest down on the exam table. Selecting a small pair of forceps, she extracted a brass slug from the tough Kevlar weave material.

“The bullet extracted is a 7.62 caliber…” The redhead’s voice faded again as she dropped the bullet into a small, plastic evidence bag. She squeezed her fists together until her nails dug into her palms, struggling to keep her emotions in check. Just compartmentalize the information, dammit. Silvia, this is professional, not personal!

Forcing herself to go on, she located the hard bulge of the second bullet - the one that had hit Pepa in the chest, temporarily stopping her heart. Placing her hand inside the vest, she could feel the outline of the hard metal slug just under the surface, noting that it had come just millimeters from actually entering Pepa’s body, inflicting what would have been an instantly fatal wound. Somehow Silvia managed to extract the second bullet, as she staunchly ignored the bitter taste of bile in the back of her throat.

“Qué? What is that?” Along with the bullet, she had extracted minute shreds of a paper-like substance from the bullet hole. She noted that the bullet had gone through one of the various pockets on the vest that were fastened with Velcro. Opening the pocket, she dipped her tweezers in a slowly extracted a crumpled, worn photograph - the bullet hole precisely in the center as a macabre reminder. Sucking in a shocked breath, tears rolled down her cheeks as she recognized a photo of herself - one that Pepa had taken on their trip to Sevilla, two months ago.

The lights in the lab seemed to rapidly dim, and the walls themselves bow inward and close in on the inspector. Her ears felt like they were stuffed with cotton, where all she could hear was the increasingly rapid straining of her own breath through her lungs. Gradually, the sound of her breathing morphed into a horrible wheezing, gasping sound, punctuated by long moans of pain - Pepa struggling to take in gulps of air after she’d been shot. The sound was wet, thick, as if the lungs were damaged and bleeding internally. Terrified, Silvia clamped her hands over her ears as she shook her head, trying to drive the horrid echoes out of her mind. Closing her eyes, all she could see was flashes of her nightmare - the blood pumping ceaselessly out of multiple wounds and Pepa’s dark, beautiful eyes - now vacant and staring unseeing into her own panicked, disbelieving expression.

Opening her eyes, Silvia breathlessly stumbled back until she hit the counter. She hit a tray of samples, not minding them as they fell to the concrete floor with a loud clatter. The lab was as it had been before - unchanged, sterile and heedless of the panic that now overrode her screaming senses.

Dios! Pepa! I have to call her, have to get to her! What if she’s hurt or fell down or…

Even as her mind veered crazily through her thoughts, Silvia picked up her cell phone, frantically hitting the first speed dial button. Four interminably long rings sounded before Pepa’s voice mail picked up.

Her decision already made, Silvia picked up her purse and wrenched the door to the lab open, still tightly clutching the ruined photograph and cell phone in her free hand. She dashed down the hallway, the motion causing the tears in her eyes to streak quickly down her cheeks, not seeing where she was going until she collided with a lithe, female body.

“Silvia!” Sara’s eyes widened, seeing her beloved aunt almost hysterical and in tears. She gently grasped her upper arms, feeling Silvia shaking uncontrollably. “Tita, what’s wrong? You’re as white as a sheet!”

“Lo siento, sobrina…I have to…have to…” Silvia’s voice was so strained, she hardly recognized herself, which scared her even more. “I need to go home…I need to see if Pepa’s okay!”

“Vale, let me or Aitor drive you.” The girl caught Don Lorenzo’s eye and motioned him over worriedly. “Abuelo!”

“No Sara, I have to go!” Silvia ducked out of Sarah’s grip just as the commissioner reached the pair. The inspector made a beeline for the steps, rapidly descending and exiting the main room.

“Abuelo, what’s wrong with Silvia?” Sarah looked up at her grandfather, her voice colored with apprehension. “Dios, what can we do for her?”

Don Lorenzo sighed heavily. “I think everything from Pepa’s shooting is catching up to her. And you know she’ll just be stubborn enough to reject our help until she’s ready.” He flicked open his cell phone and dialed a number. “But I’ll be damned if I won’t try.”

___

Paco quickly strode through his kitchen to answer the knock at the door, while fumbling with his other hand to button his shirt.

“Hola, hermana.” He said his sister who smiled in greeting. “No sling at last, huh?”

“Sí! Fucking finally!” Pepa rolled her eyes, glad that the restricting piece of cloth she had been burdened with was gone. “Lo siento Paco. I know you’re about to go to the precinct, but I wanted to stop by for a bit.”

“Claro que sí. Anytime! It’s not like I’m looking forward to doing paperwork right now!”

“Heh. Me neither. I’m still off for a few days before I go back to the glamour of desk duty. Silvia won’t even let me near a patrol car or in the field until I’m fully healed.”

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, those are the CNP’s rules, not just hers.” Paco gestured to the kitchen table as Pepa took off her leather jacket and sat down, stretching her long denim-clad legs out. He joined her with two steaming cups of coffee, the strong, alluring aroma filling the small space. “Here. Coffee’s about the only thing I know how to make since Lola’s not here to cook anymore.”

Pepa wordlessly patted her brother’s hand in sympathy, knowing how emotional Paco still was about his ex-wife’s absence. “Mom always complained endlessly how neither one of us inherited her flair for cooking. I miss her turrón at Christmas.” She patted her stomach ruefully.

“Ah, but you have Silvia.” Paco observed, stirring sugar in his cup.

“Sí. I don’t know what I did in my crazy live to deserve her, but I do.” Pepa nodded and stared down at her coffee with an intense interest the plain cobalt ceramic cup did not warrant.

“Pepa? Hermana?” The large man tipped his sister’s chin up, compelling her to look at him. “Are you and Silvia okay?”

A long sigh. “Sí. Well, mostly. A lot of stuff going on.” Pepa flicked her eyes to stare out the window, her insides trembling with the memory of Silvia’s alarming screams the previous night. “But I need to talk to her about it first.” She looked back at Paco, forcing a grin she didn’t quite feel. “But you’ll be second on the list, promise.”

“After what you did for me yesterday, I’m more than welcome to return the favor.”

“That’s what I came to talk to you about. I was worried about you after you left. How were things with Señora Torres?”

“As okay as they could be. It was an honor for her to take me to Gabriel’s grave. I said a prayer and saluted him and his courage.” Paco took a sip of his coffee, which helped to dispel the lump in his throat. “Señora Torres is an amazing woman. She still finds the will to live, to still somehow smile. She wants to keep in touch, as a courtesy. I think…maybe it’ll go a long way in helping me heal from that day.”

“Muy bien.” Pepa patted his hand again, her smile genuine this time. She reached under her jacket which she’d placed on a nearby chair, easing an item out and handing it over. “I hope this helps you too.”

“Pepa, qué -” Paco opened the velour covered display box with gold trim and saw her medal displayed, its gold surface reflecting brightly in the sunlight that streamed through the window.

“I want you to have it.” The agent gestured, nudging the box closer to Paco’s hand. “It was your case, so it’s rightfully yours.”

“No, no, Pepa, I can’t accept this.” The inspector tried to pass it back, but his sister refused. “I mean, I’ve already been awarded the Order of Police Merit, remember?”

“I don’t care.” Pepa held firm, her voice resolute. “It’s yours. It was my choice to defend Silvia and my family, my actions. I don’t want you to feel guilt over what happened to me anymore.”

“Dios, you are so god damn stubborn!” Paco got up and gave his sibling an extended, warm hug, which she gladly returned. They parted as Paco gave her two wet kisses on her cheeks. “Muchas gracias, hermana. But, I’m still not keeping your medal!”

A snort of laughter as a dark brow rose. “Now who’s fucking stubborn? Fine!” Pepa waved a hand in resignation. “Just…be the guardian of it, but keep it here. I don’t need all that crap on my uniform when I have to wear the dress blues!”

“We got you in your dress blues once, so we know that’s not happening again for at least another five years!” Paco laughed heartily, the vibrations jiggling his large frame.

“That’s damn right! Oh, speaking of clothes…” Pepa released her brother and searched in the kitchen drawers until she came up with a pad of paper and a pen. “What suit are you going to wear when you walk me down the aisle?”

Paco’s eyes lit up as he gladly changed topics to a happier subject. “Oh, you’ll love it hermana! I bought a brand new one and going am all out, with the tails and everything!”

Pepa laughed as she scribbled down a few things on the pad. “Now, for the real question. Where can I take Silvia on the honeymoon? Since the wedding’s been delayed for a few months and some of the original plans got messed up, I need a new location. Silvia’s only request is somewhere gorgeous, with beaches, where we can be alone. What do you think? I’m just looking forward to spoiling her and treating her like the princesa she is.”

“Say no more!” Paco went into the living room and came back after much shuffling and mumbling, his arms loaded down with various glossy magazines and travel brochures. “I’ve been collecting them for you! Here, we have Cypress - or maybe somewhere else on the Mediterranean…Greece, Hawaii, maybe somewhere in South America…”

“Vale!” Pepa rubbed her hands together gleefully. “Let’s start brainstorming!”

___

Rock music blared throughout the living room as Pepa’s muscles flexed and bunched as she lifted a small half kilogram weight, going through another series of exercises to strengthen her left arm. Sweat streaked down her temples and dampened patches of the grey tank top she was wearing. She still felt small twinges of pain, which she had been told was normal while the muscle repaired and healed.

Besides… The agent chuckled internally. If I feel even the slightest amount of pain outside of what’s normal, Silvia knows about it and is on me like a hawk! Damn woman’s got a sixth sense about those things. The thought brought a secret smile to the brunette’s face. It wasn’t necessarily a bad thing that her fiancé knew her body better than she herself did. Most of the time it was downright pleasurable.

She had awoken that morning and rolled over, expecting to find Silvia’s warmth only to have her fingers graze a piece of paper left on her pillow. Blinking sleep out her eyes, Pepa saw a post-it attached to a copy of the article on the medal ceremony. While the agent was somewhat embarrassed by the continuing attention to what the article termed ‘her unparalleled heroic actions’, she was more interested in Silvia’s words written on the small paper in her elegant hand: Buenos días, mi caballero! You were sleeping so soundly, I didn’t want to disturb you. Breakfast is in the fridge. Por favor, take it easy and don’t work too hard today. Te quiero, Silvia.

“Humph. Easier said than done.” Pepa had muttered as she’d flopped on her back. She was almost fanatical about her physical therapy, wanting to get back to active duty as soon as possible, as much as she simultaneously admitted and hated the fact that the main prescription for her injuries was rest. Pepa bit her lip thoughtfully, wondering how to broach with her sometimes unpredictable partner about what she’d gone through last night.

The agent’s thoughts were interrupted as the front door flung open and Silvia entered, her eyes wide and panting out of breath as if she’d been running against an unseen clock. Alarms went off in Pepa’s mind as she quickly put down the rubber barbell and walked over to a side table to switch the iPod dock off.

“Qué pasa Silvia?” She took shockingly chilled hands in her own and chaffed them gently.

“I - I just…” Silvia avoided Pepa’s concerned gaze as she ran her hands over her fiancé’s bare arms, much like she had after her nightmare. “You didn’t answer your phone when I called a few minutes ago and I was worried. I thought you’d fallen down or -”

“Silvia, I’m fine. I must not have heard it with the music going.” She cradled her partner’s cheek in her palm, looking into troubled brown eyes. “Por favor, tell me what happened. Tell me what’s going on with you. Did something happen at work?”

The inspector looked down and shrugged out of Pepa’s embrace. “Nada. It was just a hard day, that’s all.” Feeling foolish and embarrassed by her irrational actions, Silvia made her way to the kitchen, dropping her things and opening a cabinet to rummage for a coffee cup.

Oh, you are not getting away that easily, pelirroja! Concern now mixed with hurt and a sudden anger, Pepa marched into the kitchen. “Silvia, we need to talk. Now.” Pepa’s set tone of voice left no room for argument.

Silvia filled a tea kettle with water and set it on the stove to boil. “No. We don’t.” She stated just as flatly, her shoulders hunching as if she was trying to ward off an unseen blow.

“Sí! We do.” The brunette took a deep breath as she tried to order her thoughts. “I’m really worried about you. That nightmare you had last night -”

“It was a one-time thing, Pepa. I’m fine.” Stone-faced, Silvia crossed her arms, looking defiantly at her partner.

“No it wasn’t and you know it.” Time to grab this by the cojones, as Don Lorenzo would say.

“Silvia, I think you should go in and talk to Dr. Felix. As soon as possible. We both have to do a mandatory psych eval to return to field duty anyway.” Pepa let out a slow breath, knowing she was on precarious ground mentioning the precinct’s resident psychiatrist.

“Qué?” The inspector jabbed a finger at herself, her nostrils flaring angrily. “You think I’m crazy? I’m not the one who got shot Pepa!”

“No, but you’re the one who remembers everything in detail. I - I just want you to have a safe place to talk about what you’re going through.” Pepa’s voice took on a pleading edge as she spread her hands in a calming gesture. She didn’t care if she sounded like she was begging, not when her fiancé’s welfare was at stake.

“Well, I don’t need any more god damn therapy.” Silvia’s hackles started to rise, as she slammed a coffee cup down on the counter, the sound reverberating through the room like a gunshot. “If you weren’t trying to be such a fucking hero, running into a crossfire -”

“Qué?! That’s ridiculous Silvia! I was trying to save you!” Pepa shook her head, incredulous at her partner’s accusation.

“Well, I don’t need you to!” The redhead marched up to the taller woman, intentionally getting in her personal space. “Did you ever think of me?! What would have happened to me if you’d died?”

“This is my fault?” Pepa yelled. “Do you really think I would have done any differently, that I would have just stood aside and let you get shot?”

“I -” Breathing heavily, Silvia stepped back, running her hand agitatedly through her thick red mane. Turning her back on her partner, she turned off the steaming kettle and poured herself a cup of tea, dunking the teabag several times in the hot liquid, the fingers of her other hand drumming impatiently on the counter.

“You know what your problem is?” Her tone was sharp, bitter as she turned to her fiancé, whose expression was a mixture of fury and disbelief. “You’re so fucking overprotective Pepa! You think you have the solution for everything!”

“Silvia, that’s not true -”

“Well, I’m not a fucking child! Stop treating me like one! Stop thinking that you can protect me from every evil thing in the world, because you can’t!”

“Silvia, I don’t mean it to come off like that.” The brunette snorted derisively. “You’re accusing me of being overprotective when you barely let me step out of the house when I’m healing just fine!”

Pepa took a cleansing breath, trying to calm down as she took a tentative step towards her obviously fuming partner. “Por favor, cariño…I feel helpless, like I can’t do anything for you with your nightmares.”

“Well, I don’t want you to do anything!”

Pepa took another step, her anger starting to fade in favor of a heartsick nausea. “What’s wrong with me wanting to keep you safe and whole, especially after all we’ve been through? I just want you to get the help you need -”

“God dammit, Pepa, I don’t need any help!” Silvia shouted, heedless of the tears that were now spilling from her eyes. “Especially from you!”

As if she was outside herself watching the actions of a stranger, Silvia felt herself lift the mug full of hot tea and throw it against the opposite kitchen wall, watching it shatter in an explosion of ceramic shards and steam. Horrified, she watched Pepa slowly lower her arm which she had instinctively thrown up to protect her face. The skin on the forearm was now marred by a nasty gash that was several centimeters long and bleeding freely.

Unable to face her partner or what she’d done, Silvia fled into the bedroom, slamming and locking the door behind her. A few seconds later, she heard the front door slam and the screeching of tires as Pepa’s car left the driveway. At the sound, the inspector burst into sobs, wrapping her arms tightly around her stomach. She cried for her nightmares, which seemed to haunt her incessantly, for the damage she’d done to the relationship and person she loved the more than anything - but most of all, for the sickening specter of El Gordo’s continued presence. Even in death, the damage he had done to Pepa and herself still lingered.

Silvia bent over in a fetal position, her tears dampening the carpet, feeling the fibers dig into her cheek. Crying for everything that El Gordo had taken from her familia. And how hard it would be to regain everything he had stolen away.