The Right to Love - Part 9

[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: NC-17. Sorry, this rating is not for sexy time! Be forewarned, this part has very discriminatory language, which I thought was necessary to tell the story. It is certainly not any part of my own personal views. Any comments/questions are welcome.

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. Our favorite sexy cop/scientist duo are against some tough odds and few enemies in this part, so they’re very pissed off! As for me…sigh…well, at this rate, I might finish this story in a few years! ;p But I still love doing my part to keep the fandom going and writing about my favorite Spanish couple - it’s good fun when the muse decides to cooperate with me!

[ Part 1] [ Part 2] [ Part 3] [ Part 4] [ Part 5] [ Part 6] [ Part 7] [ Part 8]


“Señora! Señora, por favor!”

Pepa walked past the desk, her long legs moving in determined strides, her boots sinking into a plush maroon carpet. She ignored the protests from the young, wide-eyed aide, who was visibly aghast at the tall woman’s audacity.

“Hey, you can’t go in there without an appointment! It’s restricted!”

“Like hell it is!” Pepa growled, low in her throat. Grasping the shiny brass handle of a heavy oak door, she forcefully barged into Senator Lozano’s office.

The Senator looked up as he was interrupted mid-word from a phone call. His bushy black eyebrows scrunched together in mild confusion, as he observed the woman who was now glowering at him from across his desk.

“Lo siento. I’ll have to call you back Señor Márquez.” The Senator’s thick fingers slowly, deliberately put the handset down on the phone, his expression now one casual superiority.

“Senator, I should call security this instant!” The aide sputtered indignantly, his hands fluttering in worried gestures. “Or perhaps the police?”

“There’s no need, Miguel. It appears the police are already here.” Lozano’s eyes had sought out Pepa’s badge clipped to her belt. He dismissed the aide with a flick of his hand. “You can go. This will only take a few minutes.”

The aide slowly retreated but not without a suspicious glare in the tall brunette’s direction, before he closed the door behind him.

“Senator Lozano.” Pepa’s tone was clipped and brusque. “The CNP has some questions for you regarding Senator Duarte’s death.”

“My, but you do get to the point quickly, don’t you agent?” The Senator’s voice was unruffled, showing no hints of insult at his unexpected visitor. “But I like to treat my guests with a bit more civility. Would you like something to drink? Café? Or I have a lovely tequila if you prefer.”

The agent held her annoyance in check, realizing a smooth talking politician when she saw one. “No. I’m here to ask if you -”

“You do realize this is off the record, of course.” A knowing grin appeared in the thick, salt-and-pepper beard. Large hands folded over a stomach that was beginning to show signs of a potbelly, which was covered by a custom tailored dark suit. “As you have no just cause, no warrant and no reason to be here…well, this is merely a conversation, no?”

Pepa’s eyebrow rose in irritation, reluctantly acknowledging that the Senator was correct. “Claro. This is just a talk. For now.”

Logically, Pepa knew the last thing she should be doing for the case and for her career was to be confronting the Senator directly. But Blackman’s warning and the implied threat to Silvia had thrown all rationality out the window. Pepa’s brain had been dizzy with anger at the lack of control she’d had thus far in the case. The thought fueled her emotions and actions, which drove her to speed back to the precinct to drop her fiancé off in a place she felt was a safe refuge, and to Lozano’s office at breakneck speed.

“So, Senator. Were you, or anyone under your employment or direction, involved in Senator Duarte’s death?”

The large man’s expression morphed into a disappointed frown. “Claro que no. You know as well as I do that the Senator’s death was a horrible tragedy. An accident. A brilliant man’s life that was taken too soon. As I said in my press statement, which I released for today’s funeral.”

Pepa’s lips twisted into a sarcastic smirk. “Sí, a speech that was beautifully written by a spin doctor.”

“I assure you, my sentiments are quite genuine.” Lozano shifted slightly in his chair before pointing a meaty finger at the agent. “Despite any fantastical theories you may have about me.”

“But there’s no doubt that your opponent’s death has proven advantageous for you in the polls.” Pepa pressed.

“Sí. But things shift from day to day, hour to hour in politics. Alliances, polls, opinions. But I’m a man who holds true to my convictions. I’m doing the right thing for proper, upstanding families. People who don’t want the sanctity of marriage to be torn apart.”

The brunette crossed her arms, shaking her head derisively. “You just know all the right things to say, don’t you, Senator?”

“Well, as the stereotype goes, I am a politician.” The grin now reflected in the beard had a voracious touch. “And I’m very good at my job.”

“So am I.” Pepa met his grey eyes directly. “I’ll find whatever it is you don’t want to tell me.”

Lozano choked out a laugh that was poorly hidden under a cough. “I’m sure you will. Now, if you’re done bothering me with useless questions, I have work to do.”

Reluctantly, Pepa slowly unfolded her arms and stepped back. She paused with her hand on the doorknob. “Don’t worry, señor. I’ll have my warrant and all my paperwork in order the next time we see each other.”

“See that you do, Agent Miranda. Otherwise, I’ll have my lawyers sue you and your incompetent department for everything you’re worth and more.”

“Qué?” Lozano asked, satisfied as he saw the agent’s jaw tighten in anger. “You think I don’t know who you are? I have my men researching your every move. But -”

He sighed gravely as he crossed himself. “I will pray for you, Agent Miranda. That you’re cured of the sickness of your depraved ways.”

Fighting the roiling sensation in her gut, Pepa merely narrowed her eyes and exited, slamming the door behind her. Swearing under her breath, she ignored the tittering giggle from the aide, as she stomped furiously down the hallway.

___

Silvia maneuvered her car carefully through the pelting rain, finding a parking space and turning off the engine. She ran a hand through her hair, in an impatient mood. She wasn’t necessarily angry at Pepa or even her rampant protectiveness - which had caused her fiancé to drive back to the precinct like a maniac, over her own protestations that she was perfectly capable of taking care of herself despite Blackman’s warnings.

But the inspector wanted answers. She picked up the Duarte file from her purse and fingered it for a moment. She’d memorized the contents in the past week. This is one of my last chances to get some help on this case. And it’d better be good.

She left the car and made her way up the steps to the precinct - the largest CNP precinct in the Moratalaz district in Madrid. Renowned not just for its handling of high profile cases, but its forensic lab and staff, which was tops in the field. Entering the lobby, Silvia attempted to catch the eye of the officer who staffed the desk.

“Perdón.” She said, displaying her badge and credentials. “I’m looking for Inspector Aragón.”

The officer looked at Silvia’s ID and sardonically raised a grizzled eyebrow, surprised that the attractive woman in front of him was actually was in possession of an Inspector’s badge.

“Second floor, to the left at the top of the stairs. Fourth door down.” He grunted, returning his attention back to his paperwork. “Just listen for the music.”

“Gracias.” Silvia took the items back, irately recognizing the officer’s offhand demeanor. Great. An agent who thinks it’s a foreign concept to have a woman in this field.

She sighed and made her way to the lab. Her ears picked up the powerful reverberation of rock music long before she reached the glass-enclosed room, the pounding bass making her head ache. Silvia paused for a moment, inconspicuously observing Inspector Pedro Aragón - a man she knew only by reputation, as a brilliant but unconventional forensic scientist. Aragón’s dexterous fingers played an imaginary air guitar in time to the music, his latex encased hands strumming away. He was about her age, but had an edgy, scruffy demeanor. His unkempt brown hair just skimmed the collar of his lab coat, under which was a frayed black t-shirt depicting a popular heavy metal band. A cigarette dangled from his lips, the smoke curling lazily upward.

This should be interesting. The redhead mused as she entered the lab. She cleared her throat, trying to get Aragón’s attention. “Inspector?”

The scientist continued his private concert, his back to Silvia, still engrossed in his own world.

Silvia cupped her hands to her mouth. “Inspector??” She finally tapped him on the shoulder, causing him to jerk around, nearly knocking them both over.

“Qué??” He yelled over the music. He held up a finger. “Hold on, hold on.” Going to his laptop, he muted the volume on a music program.

“I wired the internal speakers to my laptop.” He gestured to the intercom speakers located in the ceiling. “There’s no sense if they’re just to be used for announcements or emergency tests, don’t you think? A waste of good equipment.”

“So…” He removed the cigarette from his lips, flicking the ash negligently to the floor. “What can I do for you? A woman as beautiful as yourself usually only comes in on my autopsy table.”

Silvia ignored the comment, and offered a hand instead. “I’m Inspectora Castro. I called you earlier.” Aragón slowly took it, as if handling an unknown substance.

“Ah, so you’re the infamous Inspectora Castro!” The forensic scientist grinned, revealing slightly yellow teeth, stained with nicotine.

“And you’re Inspector Aragón. I heard you were a bit unorthodox.” Curious, Silvia directed the conversation off track. She gestured at the still lit cigarette. “That’s a bit unprofessional, don’t you think? Smoking in a lab where you can potentially compromise an autopsy and an investigation?”

Instead of taking offense, Aragón merely let out a short laugh, shaking his head. “Well, as you can see Inspectora Castro -” He gestured around with the lit tip. “There’s no body in here right now. And I hear you’re a bit of a conventional perfectionist. But I suppose that’s a good thing, since your precinct would fall apart without you to save their collective asses. But to each their own, no?”

Chauvinistic, unprofessional asshole! Silvia silently fumed. She tried to keep her emotions in check, even as she had a disconcerting feeling that Aragón could see how much he’d affected her.

“Sí, I suppose.” She handed over the file on Duarte. “Anyway, I was hoping you could take a look at my test results on a recent case. If you could take a look at the numbers or run some of your own tests again. I still have blood and tissue samples.”

“Ah, the acclaimed Duarte case.” Aragón muttered around his cigarette, flipping quickly through the file, absently scratching at the stubble that covered his cheeks. “I heard you caught that one. That’ll put you quite through the roof if you manage to solve it.”

“I’m not interested in furthering my career, only finding who’s responsible for a murder.” Silvia said, careful to keep her voice neutral.

“Uh huh.” Another mumble, before Aragón’s vivid, dark eyes met hers. “But why are you so interested in this case, Inspectora?” He shrugged casually. “Some things are just fucking unexplainable. We’ll never solve them with all the knowhow or technology in the world.”

“Because…” The redhead gritted her teeth, Aragón’s cavalier attitude now truly pissing her off. “My career is based on why I’m interested, and why I care! I’ve always promised to speak for the dead, to give them justice.”

Her voice rose considerably to emphasize her point. “And I promise, on my life, I will give this man justice!”

“Well…” Her fellow scientist handed back the file, coolly unruffled. “Good luck to you then, Inspectora Castro. I’m sure your passion will serve you well.”

Silvia blinked in surprise. “That’s it? You only looked at the file for a few seconds. This is your personal copy. I’m to coordinate my efforts on this case with you via Comisario Castro and the CNP’s request.”

“My apologies, but I’ll have to decline.” Aragón’s suave expression remained unchanged, as he took a last deep drag off his cigarette before stubbing the tip out in a Petri dish.

Silvia was dumbfounded. “You don’t want the case. May I ask why?”

“Because, like I said, I know your reputation…” Aragón smiled as he folded his arms definitively. “And I don’t work with your kind.”

“Why, because I’m a woman?” Silvia said, indignant. “That’s an extremely outdated concept, Inspector Aragón.”

“No. Fucking dykes.”

Silvia felt a physical impact in her gut at the hateful dismissal. She didn’t know what was worse - the actual words or the curt, authoritative manner in which Aragón tossed them back at her. It took all she had to keep ahold of her dignity, as she returned Aragón’s outright smirk with a steady gaze.

“Well…” Silvia inhaled deeply, trying to keep her voice from wavering. “I thank you for your time. But make no mistake, I will report you for your refusal to cooperate, despite an official request. And your violation of policy for discrimination against a CNP Inspector.”

The forensic scientist pulled a battered cigarette pack from the pocket of his lab coat, extracting a second cigarette and lighting it in a smooth motion.

“Whatever you feel is appropriate.” He made a grand, mocking flourish with the smoldering tip. “Be my guest.”

Silvia stood up to her full height, despite the fact that Aragón was a head taller than her. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to find my way to your comisario’s office and formally tell him that you can kiss my ass!”

A gravelly laughter made Silvia spin around. “Go ahead, Inspectora.” A bald, stocky man in a rumpled suit and tie stood at the lab entrance.

“I’m Comisario Páez, head of the Moratalaz precinct.”

“Comisario. I’m placing a formal complaint -”

The commissioner quickly stepped inside the room, into Silvia’s personal space. “And as my chief forensic scientist said, our precinct does not want anything to do with the royal fuck up that is San Antonio. Especially one that harbors freaks and deviant homosexuals.” His arrogant smile was a perfect match to Aragón’s, ignoring Silvia’s completely devastated expression.

“Do I make myself clear?” Páez’s voice dropped to a low, menacing rumble. “We don’t want you here.”

Silvia managed to swallow the bile that had risen in the back of her throat, ashamed and mortified that she’d been subject to such flagrant hatred. She felt goose bumps rise on her skin as a cold chill went down her spine. She slowly backed away from the two men, almost afraid for her physical safety. She could feel her body start to shake, and she knew she had to leave the room before she completely lost her composure.

“Vale, I’m going.” She managed to utter a harsh whisper. “But the bigotry of your precinct will be reported to Comisario Castro as well as Principal Comisario Vargas. As high up the chain of command as I have to go.”

“Sí, you go running to your papá, Inspectora.” Páez chuckled. “And that fat-ass, Vargas. Tell them I said hello. But remember, we know how to bury a file in red tape as well as the next cop.”

“And, Inspectora - one more thing.” Aragón smiled thinly as he exhaled, blowing twin streams of smoke out of his nose.

“I know of a clinic, about 50 kilometers outside of Madrid. It’s peaceful and very quiet. A lovely place for you and that Agent Miranda that kind of…special help you need. They have all kinds of programs, from sexual conversion therapy to shock therapy. I hear wonderful things about the man that runs it, a Dr. Limón.”

Aragón reached into another coat pocket and extracted a pen and his business card, quickly scribbling on the back of it. “Here’s his number.”

He offered the card in the redhead’s direction. “I recommend you go there for a few sessions. Who knows? Once you’ve reverted back to your normal self, give me a call. I’d like to have an attractive woman back in my lab.” Aragón’s smile grew wider, as he winked charmingly.

Silvia blinked away tears that were a mixture of revulsion, fear and humiliation. Her fingers finally grazed the handle as she backed against the glass-paneled door. Throwing her weight against it, she exited the room, flat out running down the hallway.

“Mierda!” The forensic scientist chuckled, breaking the silence. “I think I made the little pelirroja Inspectora cry!”

Páez joined in laughing, as he shook his head disgustedly. “Fucking lesbians! Only thing you can do is screw them and shoot them!”

___

Silvia cupped her hand to catch two pills that rattled out of the bottle, before tipping her head back to swallow the painkillers with a large gulp of water. After leaving the Moratalaz precinct, she’d driven blindly, hot tears streaking down her cheeks, until she’d located the first open bar she could find. Stumbling through the door, she’d immediately ordered and downed two shots of tequila, in a vain attempt to steady her nerves.

Several hours later, Silvia still had a throbbing head and stomachache that no amount of alcohol could quell. She knew that taking acetaminophen on a queasy stomach would probably make her feel worse, but she was desperate for any kind of relief from the sickening pounding that seemed to reverberate through every cell of her body, mind and psyche.

Upon returning to San Antonio, she’d immediately gone into a lengthy, confidential meeting with her father. As sick as she felt, what happened in Moratalaz had only served to strengthen her determination. The more she poured over the lab results, the more convinced she was that Duarte’s death was premeditated. She just had to find the proof.

A soft chime from her laptop alerted her that she had an incoming video conference request. Silvia checked the clock. Right on time. As doctors always are.

She clicked on the button to accept. The screen came to life, revealing a tall white-haired man in his 50s, wearing a lab coat similar to hers. His face was prematurely lined with age and stress, which was belied by his kind, genuine eyes.

“Hola, Doctor Gonzalez. Cómo estás?” Silvia smiled in relief, happy beyond words to see a friendly face.

Esteban Gonzalez was the emergency room physician who had treated Pepa’s wounds when she had been shot and subsequently kidnapped. Despite his protests to the contrary, Silvia had told him she was forever in his debt for saving the life of the one she loved. The two had kept in occasional phone and email contact, enjoying each other’s professional camaraderie. Pepa had laughed it off when she heard about it, joking that there were too many brain cells in the room as the two would excitedly discuss and debate findings in a medical journal or medical history.

“Muy bien, Inspectora Castro.” He replied, returning her smile. “You’re well, I hope? You look a bit tired.”

“Sí.” Silvia nodded, trying to avert the doctor’s honest concern. “It’s been a long day.”

“And how’s Agent Miranda feeling?”

“Pepa’s fine, thank you for asking.”

“Ah, that’s good to know.” Gonzalez leaned towards his camera, whispering conspiratorially. “And don’t tell Agent Miranda, but all the physical therapists here still tell horror stories about her!”

“The crankiest, most stubborn and foul-mouthed patient, ever! I know.” Silvia shook her head, bemused by her fiancé’s tendency to act like a petulant child when she didn’t get her way.

“I think they just about threw a party the day she left!” The doctor smiled easily before leaning back in his chair. “So, what can I do for you and the San Antonio precinct? Your email said that this was an official request.”

“Sí.” Silvia’s expression was regretful. “I feel bad asking you for a favor when you’re so busy already. And I already owe you so much -”

“Inspectora.” The doctor’s voice was gently admonishing. “This is an old argument. You’re the one that saved your fiancé. I hardly had anything to do with it.”

“Vale.” Silvia acquiesced. She picked up the Duarte file that she’d been studying again. “I need your help on the case of Senator Ramon Duarte. I want another pair of eyes to give my autopsy and lab results another look.”

“Qué?” Gonzalez’s brows rose in surprise. “Why me? I’m just an ER physician.”

“Come on, we know you’re much more than that.” Silvia smiled. “I’m an Inspector who’s done my research. You’ve had two stints in the army as a medical officer. Before that, you worked for a major pharmaceutical company. You’ve dealt with medicine and treating patients in the private, government and public sectors and have a wealth of experience.”

“Ha! What you call “experience” is one thing. In my mind, it just translates to getting old!” Gonzalez chuckled, the lines around his azure eyes crinkling appealingly. “Of course I can help you. I’m just surprised you’re asking a civilian.”

“Believe me, I wouldn’t want to take up your time and ask this of you unless it was a last resort.” The forensic scientist was unable to repress a shudder at the prejudice she’d experienced earlier. “Sometimes, the best thing you can do is to ask another opinion when official channels don’t work out.”

“Hm.” Gonzalez’s keen eyes noted Silvia’s change in mood. “That’s true.”

“And I have approval from my father and the Central CNP command that you have access to these case files.” Silvia looked directly at the older man, emphasizing her point. “But most of all, I need someone I can trust.”

“You have it, Inspectora. I’ll do what I can.” Gonzalez earnestly replied.

“Gracias.” Silvia sighed, some of the painful tension she felt in her body slowly bleeding away. “I’ll send you the file on a secure link and update you with my notes or anything else I find. My father’s said that if you need to ask any of your military contacts or other colleagues about the case, that it’s fine. Just clear it with him.”

“Vale. I’ll get back to you as soon as I can. In two or three days, perhaps?”

“That’s fine. Thank you, again.”

“De nada. And Inspectora -” The physician held up a finger, forestalling Silvia from ending the call. “Tell Agent Miranda to give you some of that…what is it called? TLC - tender, loving care.”

“I look I need it that badly, huh?” Silvia managed a wan smile.

“It’s the best medicine in the world - it never fails.” Gonzalez assented. “Adios, Inspectora.”

“Adios.”

Silvia leaned back in her chair after disconnecting the call, massaging her temples with her fingertips. She was grateful for the support Gonzalez was giving her, but still felt the weight of the case on her shoulders. There was still so much work to be done. She picked up the Duarte file again, thinking. What if I look at this mystery from the beginning? To start at the very basic level?

Quickly, the forensic scientist moved into action, the clattering of her keyboard echoing through the lab as she looked up a few websites. She started to jot down notes on a separate pad of paper, before moving to a white board and sketching a series of periodic formulas and diagrams. Pulling various books from shelves for reference, she quickly paged through them before going back to the board, adding and crossing out various equations.

Silvia jumped as the door abruptly banged opened so forcefully, it bashed against the adjoining table, leaving a deep dent in the metal. Pepa strode in, a maelstrom of fury and motion.

“Silvia, what the hell is going on??” The agent yelled, her long frame quivering with excess anger. “I heard you filed some sort of discrimination complaint today!”

Joder! The redhead took a calming breath as she put down the marker on the edge of her desk, before turning to face her livid fiancé. “Well, it certainly didn’t take long for the precinct gossip to reach you. So much for confidentiality.”

“All I heard was that you filed an official complaint through the chain of command.” Pepa paused, her nostrils flaring. “Quién es? What did they say to you?”

The pounding in her head increased as Silvia felt a flare of resentment sweep through her. The last thing she wanted was Pepa’s anger on her behalf, or her constant need to rush into things headfirst. “Pepa, why does it matter? It was a private discussion between me and my father, and I prefer to keep it that way!”

“No, I want to know what happened!”

“Why?” Silvia folded her arms defiantly, glaring at her partner. “Oh that’s right, so you can kick them in the cojones! But what the hell were you doing today, confronting Senator Lozano?”

“Me?” Pepa indicated herself, incredulous of the change in subject.

“You’re not the only one who hears gossip. What were you thinking, Pepa? If Lozano decides that the CNP is harassing him, it could put this whole investigation in jeopardy!”

“That asshole is hiding something, I know he is!”

“Oh!” Silvia spread her arms out, exasperated. “So if the great Pepa Miranda says that, it must be true!”

“What the hell are you getting on my case for?” The brunette yelled. “I’m trying to help you -”

“Sí, help me, protect me, as always! Dammit, Pepa!” Silvia yelled as she slammed her hand down on the counter, the impact reverberating like a shot through the lab. “It’s not always about you or what you can do for me -”

Silvia faltered in mid-sentence as her fiancé’s form went blurry and black spots crowded her field of vision. Her stomach tightened in a painful vice as she wrapped an arm around her midsection, and the room spun dizzily. She tried to lean against the counter but her limbs seemed to have turned to water. She found herself falling, only to be surrounded by Pepa’s strong arms.

“Cariño, qué pasa?” Pepa’s voice rose in panic as she felt her partner sag in her embrace. Her fingers reached to wipe away the beads of sweat that had appeared on a pale brow.

“Here, sit down.” Carefully, the agent maneuvered Silvia to her desk chair. She knelt before her, placing gentle hands on her thighs, before taking the smaller hands in her own. “Dios! I’m so sorry I stormed in here, yelling at you. I should get you a doctor.” Pepa moved to stand, but was held in place by Silvia’s grip.

The forensic scientist squeezed her eyes shut as she silently counted to ten, waiting for the waves of nausea to pass.

“I’m fine.” She whispered, opening her eyes to see Pepa’s very concerned face, inches from hers. She winked at her fiancé, attempting levity. “And I am a doctor, thank you very much.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” The brunette frowned, seeing Silvia’s shaky nod.

“Sí.” A long sigh, as she felt Pepa tucking stray strands of her hair behind her ears. “I just had a really crappy afternoon, that’s all.”

“Vamos.” Pepa motioned with her head towards the door. “At the very least, let’s go home and relax.”

“Pepa, I can’t now.” Silvia tried to protest as she gestured at the files and books spread out over every available counter and table space. “There’s so much work to do. I just got started.”

“Hey, it’s all about compromises, remember?” Pepa lifted an eyebrow, which elicited a weary smile in return. “Let’s go home. The work will still be here tomorrow.”

“Vale.”

The redhead felt herself pulled slowly to her feet into a warm, firm embrace. Tears came to her eyes as she stood there, relishing and drawing strength from the loving hold. She felt Pepa’s hand slowly come up to softly caress the red waves before cupping the back of her head, drawing it down to rest against her shoulder. Silvia realized this was exactly what she had been craving since the moment she’d heard those vitriolic words thrown at her. And she knew that Pepa had instinctually sensed and responded to her need. Amazing. She reflected on Dr. Gonzalez’s words. Love is the best medicine, after all.

___

“Feeling better, princesa?” A soft kiss warmed the skin in between Silvia’s shoulder blades, which Pepa had just rubbed down.

“Mm.” Silvia stretched her nude body to its full length, settling languidly against the cool sheets, before turning to snuggle in her fiancé’s embrace. “I think I’ve lost the ability to form coherent sentences after that massage.”

A light laughter vibrated through her skin as she felt Pepa kiss her temple.

“That’s the point, mi pelirroja.”

Silvia took time tracing small patterns against the dusky skin that covered Pepa’s breast bone, before her fingers traveled up to trace the lines of high cheekbones and full lips. She bit back a laugh as white teeth playfully snapped at the offending finger.

“Your head’s feeling better?” The brunette’s hand moved down to her partner’s midsection, coming to rest gently on firm abdominal muscles. “How about your stomach?”

“They’re fine.” Silvia gave Pepa a brief, sweet kiss. “Gracias, mi amor.”

She reflected on her partner’s attentive care over the past few hours, which included a light dinner of soothing peppermint tea, soup and bread to quell her queasy stomach. Followed by a thorough full-body massage, where Pepa’s fingers sought out the tiniest kinks and pains, being especially gentle with her head and tender midsection. It was when Silvia was made aware, not for the first time, how much their relationship was based on a bone deep mutual trust and love, not just physical attraction and a burst of hormones. Although the sex between them was at turns spectacular, playful and included more than a few occasions where they would literally crash into walls and tear each other’s clothes off - Silvia knew that she and Pepa loved and appreciated one another, even with all their faults and imperfections. Even when she knew she was being obstinately stubborn, or if Pepa would charge headlong into a potentially fatal crossfire. Or if they fought, made love, or just held each other without speaking. They were one.

This is what it means to be married. This is what it means to be together, for better or worse. When we’re there for each other, no matter what we’ve been through. Silvia marveled at the thought, nodding to herself as she made a decision.

“Pepa?”

“Hm?” The brunette’s eyes were half closed, as she enjoyed the slight tickling sensation Silvia’s fingers made as they continued to dance across her skin.

“You wanted to know what happened today.”

Pepa’s eyes popped open as she propped her head up on her hand, gazing concernedly at her lover. “Princesa, you don’t have to tell me. If whatever you went through made you feel that sick today, I don’t want you to relive it.”

Silvia comfortingly ran her fingers through the tall woman’s silky, dark hair. “No, you need to know. Like Blackman said, this case is more complicated than we imagine.”

She took a deep breath as she recounted her meeting with Inspector Aragón and Comisario Páez. Every spiteful word, every contemptible look. She watched as Pepa’s expression morphed from disbelief to fury and finally sympathy for what she’d been through.

“Dios mío!” Pepa let out a trembling sigh as a shaky hand stroked the curve of Silvia’s cheek. “I can’t believe they said those things! They’re not fit to be in the CNP, let alone around decent human beings.”

“Cariño…” Silvia’s voice trailed off sadly, as she felt Pepa’s muscles vibrating with the effort to keep her anger at bay.

“If I ever see either one of them, I’ll do more than kick them in the cojones!” The agent growled dangerously. “I’ll beat the living shit out of them and use them for target practice!”

“Shh…” The redhead soothed her lover, taking her hand and pressing kisses to her palm. “Pepa, we have to try and look at the broader implications of this case. It goes so much beyond how it affects just us. It has from the beginning.”

“That’s what scares me. It’s one thing to work a case that’s open and shut. But to fight against such prejudice and hatred -” Pepa swallowed thickly. “It makes it almost impossible. People that are full of this much ignorance and hate, like Lozano or Aragón…they can be capable of doing terrible things. It’s like fighting an enemy we can’t see.”

“And that’s why we have to watch out for each other and our family more than ever.” Silvia said earnestly, her eyes locking with Pepa’s. “We can’t let them win.”

“We won’t.” A fiercely whispered determination. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

“Likewise.”

Silvia urged Pepa down on the mattress, curling tightly into her embrace. She felt lips brush her forehead as she fell asleep, engulfed by the love that sustained her above all.

___

She started awake a few hours later, unsure of what had disturbed her slumber. Pepa glanced at the clock, seeing the green digits starkly displaying that it was a few minutes past 2am. Her attention was drawn to the window, noting that the rain from earlier in the day had turned into a full blown storm. The branches from a nearby tree whacked against the glass with a thick, sopping scrape, while the wind moaned eerily around the walls of the house. The sound sent a chill down her spine that she couldn’t shake.

What the hell is going on with the weather lately? This is not normal. The thought sent a second shudder through her body. It was as if the storm was a reenactment of all the turmoil that had surrounded her and Silvia of late. Despite her earlier declaration to her partner, Pepa couldn’t shake the heavy feeling of foreboding the tempest brought. Something’s going to happen. And I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop it.

The agent’s attention shifted as she felt the body next to her move restlessly. Silvia was curled tightly into a fetal position, her breathing accelerating in small pants as she trembled in her sleep. Pepa frowned as she moved to cradle the body against her, feeling Silvia’s arms instinctively curl around her waist. Dammit. Not again. I thought she was over these. She was worried, knowing that Silvia hadn’t had any nightmares since that bad one a few months ago right before they started therapy.

“Don’t!” A tiny whimper escaped Silvia’s parted lips. “Stop! Por favor…”

“Hey, princesa.” Pepa kept her voice low, trying to alleviate her fiancé’s nightmare. “Wake up. It’s all right, I’m here.”

An arm shot out, almost smacking Pepa in the jaw. She caught the limb by instinct, just as Silvia uttered another keening cry, her whole body jolting with shock as she scared herself awake.

“Nooo!” The redhead drew in large gulps of air, as if tasting oxygen for the first time. Finding the warmth of the familiar form next to her, she grasped it desperately. Her sleep addled brain sluggishly made the connection that it was Pepa who held her, that it was Pepa who whispered words of comfort into her ear.

The brunette held her partner, rocking her slightly for long minutes before she gently cleared her throat. “What was it, cariño? Was it El Gordo?”

Silvia shook her head negatively, feeling her sweat dampened body start to cool. “No, it wasn’t about you. I was being held prisoner in that clinic Aragón talked about, strapped down on some kind of table. I couldn’t move or breathe, except when I screamed.”

Pepa shook at the horrible image that formed in her mind’s eye. Silvia being tortured by an unseen hand, her body jolting in sporadic, jerky movements as currents of electric shock coursed through her defenseless body. She was drawn out of her macabre thoughts as she felt Silvia’s fingers stroking the skin on her chest, grounding her.

“I don’t understand. I can’t believe people hurt other human beings like that, just because they love each other.” Silvia looked questioningly into Pepa’s eyes, asking for answers neither one of them had.

Pepa clasped the smaller hand that fit so perfectly in her own, pressing Silvia’s palm to her chest.  Her fingers flexed against the smooth skin, feeling the reassuring echo of Pepa’s heartbeat.

“Believe in this, princesa. No matter what.”

Silvia nodded as she laid her ear over Pepa’s chest. Soon she fell asleep, the soft sounds of her breathing reaching the agent’s ears.

Pepa stayed awake, watching over her love. She kept a vigilant eye on the storm that continued to rage, bracing her mind and body for the fight she knew would come.