Third Watch Fic: The Rules of the Game (Prologue-2/13)
Title: The Rules of the Game (Prologue/?)
Author: X_tremeroswellian
Email: faithboscorelli1@yahoo.com
Disclaimer: Only in my dreams do I actually own anything. All are property of Edward Allen Bernero and John Wells.
Rating: R for language, violence and sexual content
Spoilers: Up through and including "233 Days."
Summary: Bosco and Faith find themselves in a predicament in which they can use only their instincts to survive.
Distribution: My site Only Time, 55-HQ, and fanfiction.net. Others, just ask and I'll probably say yes.
Category: Story
Subcategories: Action/adventure/thriller/suspense/romance/friendship/drama/angst...does that narrow it down too much? *wink wink*
Feedback: Makes me write faster.
Author's Note: I sort of got this idea from a third season episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. But just for the very general plot idea. The rest came out of my own messed up mind. :)
Dedication: For Dem and Bree
The Rules of the Game (Prologue)
"I can't go any farther."
Bosco stopped and turned around, taking the moment to catch his breath. "You don't have a choice, Faith. Come on," he urged. He could hear the dogs barking off in the distance.
She shook her head and leaned against the trunk of a large oak tree. "I can't. Just go on." She waved her hand at him.
"Yeah, right," he replied sarcastically.
Faith looked at him, beads of sweat glistening on her forehead. "Bosco, just go."
"I am not leaving you here," he said firmly. He walked over to her, wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her forward. "Come on. We have to keep moving."
For several long moments, all Bosco could hear was the crunching of leaves and twigs as the two of them moved through the dense forest. Then there was another sound, soft at first.
She stopped, grabbed his arm. "Do you hear that?"
He could see the fear in her eyes and it made him nervous. It wasn't a sight he was used to seeing. "Yeah. It sounds like--"
"A horse," she finished.
"Come on. We gotta get out of here," Bosco said urgently.
"Yeah, but which way is it coming from?"
He paused momentarily. She had a point. In the woods it was easy to get disoriented and it was hard to decipher what direction one particular noise was coming from. He turned in a full circle, then nodded uncertainly to their right. "Let's go that way."
Faith nodded and started to follow him. They walked quickly for a short distance.
The noise was getting closer. He could hear the sound of hoofbeats galloping through the foliage. He glanced at her sideways. "Run!"
She didn't have to be told twice.
Bosco hoped to God there weren't anymore traps hidden under the dead leaves, but at the moment, he was more worried by the thought of the horseback rider catching up to them.
He heard Faith cry out from behind him, and he immediately turned. He saw that she was lying on the ground, clutching her ankle. Shit, he thought as he rushed to her side. "You okay?"
She looked up at him, her face contorted with pain. He could tell she was trying not to cry. "I think it's sprained."
He closed his eyes momentarily, then opened them again, looking around. His gaze settled back on her. "Can you walk?"
Faith swallowed hard. "I don't know."
He held his hand out and pulled her to her feet. He saw the look of pain flash over her face, though she tried her best to suppress it.
"I don't think so, Boz," she said, shaking her head as she leaned back against the nearest tree, keeping her weight on her other foot.
He hesitated only a moment. "Put your arms around my neck."
"What?" Faith asked, frowning in confusion.
"I'm gonna carry you. Put your arms around my neck."
She shook her head in refusal. "Forget it. You're just gonna have to go on without me."
"Like hell," Bosco replied, taking a step toward her.
"Bosco, I'll just slow you down. This way at least one of us has a chance of making it out of here."
"I'm not leaving you here, Faith, so forget it!"
"There's no reason for both of us to get caught," she argued.
"If you get caught, so do I. Deal with it," Bosco told her, knowing without a doubt that if the situation was reversed, she wouldn't leave his side.
Before she had a chance to respond, the whinny of a horse pierced the air. He turned to see a big man on the animal's back, just yards away from them.
"Oh, fuck," he said under his breath. There was no time to run and no place to hide. This is it, he thought. They'd survived for four days and now they were going to be caught.
"Bosco," she whispered fearfully, her hand clutching his arm tightly.
He turned to look at her, emotions crashing over him. There was so much he wanted to say to her. "I'm really sorry," he whispered.
"Me, too," she whispered back.
Bosco reached out and gently touched her face, tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. A wave of fear surged through him and he turned to see the man on the horse galloping toward them. He didn't even care at this point what happened to him. But he was terrified of what would happen to Faith. He stepped in front of her protectively, glaring at the man as he stopped the horse only a couple feet away from them.
The man grinned, looking down the barrel of his shotgun at them. "Well, well, well. Lookie what I found."
* * *
Part One
Five Days Before
"I've got a couple of leads."
Bosco glanced over at Faith as she climbed into the passenger seat of their squad. "On--?"
"Chevchinko," she responded, not looking at him.
"I thought Sullivan found him."
"He did. But without Sergey's testimony, we've got nothing on him."
He shook his head, disgusted. "So what are your leads?"
She looked straight ahead, out the windshield. "According to Mazie, they've got a drug ring going in that old warehouse on 22nd and Rochester."
Bosco looked at her. "And the other lead?"
Faith hesitated momentarily. "An illegal medical operation facility. Supposedly they're taking random people and using them as unwilling organ donors, then selling the organs on the black market."
"Where'd you hear that one from?"
She shrugged. "It's a rumor on the street. I think it may be unfounded."
"Hopefully." Bosco grimaced. "Although with as many missing person's reports that are filled out everyday in this city, anything's possible, I guess."
"Yeah." She shuddered.
"What's the address on that one?"
"Cantrell and Minister. Out by the docks, in the old paper factory."
He frowned, then started the engine. "Be a convenient place to run that kind of an operation, what, with the capability of hauling corpses out to sea right there."
She nodded. "Should we check it out?"
Before he could answer, their radios crackled to life. "Any units available, please report to 27th and and Edgar for a possible 10-29."
Bosco grabbed his radio. "55-David responding, Central."
"10-4, 55-David," the dispatcher replied.
He glanced over at Faith. "We'll check that lead out later."
"Okay," she agreed, fastening her seatbelt as he pulled their squad onto the road, flipping on the lights and sirens.
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"You all right?"
Faith glanced across the table to see Bosco gazing at her with a frown on his face as he ate another slice of pizza. "Yeah. Why?"
"You've been quiet all day," he replied with a mouth full of food.
She made a face and sipped her pepsi, looking out the window of the pizza place. "Just thinking."
"About--?"
She shrugged, feeling uncomfortable. "Nothing."
Bosco raised an eyebrow. "Right."
She didn't respond. She didn't want to tell him because she knew he'd only get on her case about it and she didn't feel like listening to it right then. "You done yet?"
"Geez, Yokas. What's your rush? We've got fifteen minutes left for dinner."
Faith sat back against the booth, trying to tamp down her impatience.
"You didn't eat very much," he remarked.
"Not hungry."
He frowned again, leaning forward. "You should eat more, Faith."
"Why's that?"
"Well, because you never know when we'll have time to stop again."
"Yeah, well, if I get hungry, I'll just wait until I get home."
"You've been losing weight," he commented.
Faith looked up at him, surprised he'd noticed. "Yeah."
"You're not sick again, are you?" His voice was casual, but his eyes were worried.
"No, Bosco, I'm not sick again," she said with a sigh. She pushed her plate away.
He studied her for a moment longer. "Wanna go check out those leads of yours?"
"That'd be good." She finished off her soda and waited as he did the same. They stood up. She reached into her pocket for some money.
"You paid. I'll get the tip," he told her, pulling out his wallet. He dropped a five dollar bill on the table and followed her out the door. "Where to first?" he asked, handing her the keys.
"We're closer to the docks," she pointed out, walking around to the driver's side of their squad.
"Spare parts operation it is, then," Bosco agreed, sliding into the passenger seat.
Faith made a face at his casual description and stuck the keys in the ignition, starting the engine. "I really, really hope this is a false rumor."
"You and me both," Bosco replied with a grimace. "Just think of all the paperwork we'd have to do."
She shook her head as she pulled the car onto the road.
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"This is it," Faith said, her voice low as she parked the squad outside of the abandoned factory.
Bosco stared at the building. "Think it's safe to go in?"
"I don't know. What do you think?"
He shrugged lightly. "I say let's check it out."
She nodded, and climbed out of the car, her hand resting on her gun holster. Bosco did the same, walking beside her up to the building. They approached the door cautiously.
Faith drew her weapon and motioned for Bosco to get on the other side of the door. He did so and on her count, he swung it open and followed her in.
The building was dark and completely silent. There was a cold chill in the air. He took the flashlight off his belt and flipped it on, shining it around. Cobwebs decorated what was left of the machinery and he caught sight of a rat scurrying across the floor, and then disappearing behind a pile of wood. "I don't think anyone's been here for awhile," he said, turning back to her.
Faith nodded toward a descending stairwell to their right. There was a door at the bottom of the stops. "Basement?"
Bosco shrugged, then headed toward them, shining the flashlight on each stair so they didn't fall. He glanced back to see her standing behind him, then he turned the door handle slowly.
The door opened slightly and he could instantly see light from inside the room. "Jackpot," he said under his breath, drawing his weapon from its holster. He pushed the door open a bit more and he could hear voices inside. He crouched down and strained to hear what was being said.
"...new location," a male voice said.
"Where?" another voice asked. This one belonged to a male, as well, and had a very distinctive accent.
Bosco glanced at Faith.
"Chevchinko," she said, her voice barely audible.
He nodded, then turned to listen again.
"...island off the coast..."
"...secure?"
"Yes, Sir..."
Bosco frowned, then leaned closer, trying to catch what he was missing.
"...all set."
"Except for new victims."
"Yes."
"...can find a solution to our little problem," Chevchinko said, giving a short laugh.
He turned to look at his partner again. "Let's go in there and arrest him."
"Maybe we should call for back-up," she suggested, hesitant.
"I thought you wanted to catch this guy."
"I do, but--"
"Then let's do it." Bosco stood up from his crouched position and pushed the door open the rest of the way. He rounded the corner, pointing his gun at Chevchinko. "Police! Nobody move!"
Chevchinko turned to look at him, surprise clear on his face. "Can I help you, Officer?"
"You're under arrest," Bosco told him.
"For what?" he asked, his voice calm.
"Probable cause at the moment," he responded.
"I haven't done anything," Chevchinko said innocently. He turned his gaze to Faith. "Officer Yokas. So good to see you again." He smirked.
"Put your hands in the air where I can see them," Bosco commanded the two men.
They both complied.
He pulled out his handcuffs. "We're taking you both down to the station."
"I don't think so, Officer."
Bosco glared at him. "You don't, huh? Well, gee. I'm all broken up about that."
"You'll point that gun away from me before it costs Officer Yokas her life," Chevchinko said cooly, nodding toward Faith.
A sinking feeling in his stomach, he turned slowly and saw a big man standing behind his partner, one arm locked around her neck and a gun pressed against her temple. He met her eyes. Oh, shit, he thought.
"Put your gun down on the floor, Officer."
"Unless you want to see her pretty little head blown off," the man standing by Chevchinko added.
His mind instantly flashed to seeing Ross after the shooting and a wave of nausea washed over him. He bent down slowly and set his gun on the concrete floor, his gaze never leaving Faith's. "All right. I did as you asked. Now you can let her go."
The man holding Faith shoved her forward roughly, causing her to stumble. She caught her balance before she fell, then turned to glare at the man.
He simply grinned back at her.
"What do you want, Chevchinko?" Faith demanded angrily.
"What do I want?" He walked over to her. "What every man wants. Money. A nice home. To be able to take care of my family. Mostly I want the New York Police Officers to leave me alone."
"Yeah? Then quit breaking the damned law!" Bosco snapped.
Chevchinko smirked at him, then looked at her. "You have a different partner, I see. What is his name?"
She just looked back at him, remaining silent.
His eyes narrowed and he nodded his head slightly.
The big man came up behind her and shoved the gun into her back.
"Maurice Boscorelli!" Bosco answered, glaring at the man. "Want me to spell it for you?"
"That won't be necessary." Chevchinko turned to him again. "Boscorelli...is that an Italian name?"
"Yeah, after my father. He's a real asshole. You're probably related somehow!" he said angrily, upset that the man still had a gun pointed at his partner's back.
Chevchinko raised an eyebrow. "He has quite a temper, Officer Yokas. I like your other partner better."
"Screw you!" Bosco snapped.
"Bosco." Faith looked over at him and shook her head.
He shut his mouth, but glared at the man.
She turned her attention to Chevchinko. "Look. Why don't you let us go and we can pretend like none of this ever happened."
Chevchinko looked at her. "I think we all know better than that, Officer Yokas. No, I think you know as well as I do that if I let you go, you'd have a warrent for my arrest in less than an hour. And since I can't let you go, then I must decide what to do with the two of you."
"Anything happens to us, and this place is gonna be crawling with cops," Bosco warned. "It's only a matter of time before our backup gets here."
The older man seemed to consider his words. Then he smiled. "Then I guess we'll just have to take you somewhere else, won't we?"
Bosco met Faith's gaze.
Chevchinko nodded his head, and he watched in horror as the man grabbed Faith from behind, shoving a white cloth over her mouth and nose. She struggled, her eyes wide with fear.
"Faith!" he shouted. He made it exactly two steps before the other man slammed something down on the back of his head. He fell to the floor, his head pouding and his vision growing blurry. He watched helplessly as his partner's limp body tumbled to the floor a few feet away.
"I think you just solved our dilemma, Sir," one of the men said.
"Yes," he heard Chevchinko agree. "They're both healthy, young, strong...they'll make excellent specimens."
The last thing he heard was the laughter of the three men. Then Bosco passed out.
* * *
Part Two
"Bosco. Bosco, can you hear me? Wake up!"
He groaned, his head pounding as though he'd had a few too many drinks the night before. And he was shaking. Either New York City was in the midst of an earthquake or he was having some kind of seizure.
No, he realized.
Someone was shaking him.
"Bosco, please wake up!"
A familiar voice was calling to him, an urgency to the person's tone.
He somehow managed to open his eyes, and he squinted. He found himself staring up into a pair of beautiful, worried brown eyes.
"Thank God. I've been trying to wake you up for like twenty minutes. I thought you might be in a coma."
Bosco blinked a couple times, feeling confused. "Faith?" he asked groggily, trying to figure out why she was at his apartment waking him up.
"Yeah, it's me," she answered, her strawberry blond hair hanging down in her face as she remained leaning over him.
"What are you doing here?"
"I think the question to ask is where is 'here?'" she replied, glancing around nervously.
He frowned. "Huh?"
Her gaze returned to his face. "Do you remember anything?"
"Not so much," he admitted.
"Yeah, well, there's something you should--"
Bosco moved his right hand up to touch the side of his head, but instead found Faith lying on top of him. "What the--"
"That's what I was trying to tell you." She winced as she moved off him. She held up her left hand and his right hand raised up along with it.
Bosco stared at the handcuffs in disbelief. "What the fuck?" He struggled to sit up, and managed to do so with some effort. He looked around, stunned to see nothing but trees and bushes surrounding them. "What the hell is going on?"
"I don't know. What's the last thing you remember?"
He closed his eyes, trying to recall what had happened. "Going into some abandoned factory...Chevchinko was there. Shit. One of his goons hit me with something." He rubbed the back of his head gingerly with his left hand. Then he opened his eyes and looked at her in concern. "Are you hurt?"
"I'm a little nauseus from the chloroform," she admitted, her face a bit paler than usual.
"Those fuckers," he cursed. He looked around again. "This is how they decided to get rid of us? By dropping us off in the middle of a damned forest?"
"At least we're still alive," she pointed out.
"Just wait until I get my hands on that stupid S.O.B. I'll wring his scrawny neck," Bosco muttered.
"Yeah, well, you'll have to find him first."
He heard the slight tremor in her voice and he quickly focused his gaze on her face. "What's wrong?"
"You mean besides the fact that we don't know where we are, how we got here, or how to get back? That's not enough?"
He started to reply when he realized that she was no longer wearing her uniform. She had on a white tank top, a pair of jeans and tennis shoes. He looked down and saw that he was no longer wearing his uniform, either. Instead, he had on a pair of jeans, tennis shoes, and a green t-shirt with a long-sleeved button down denim shirt over it. "They changed our clothes?" he said in disbelief.
Faith didn't respond. She was staring down at the ground.
A sick feeling settled in the pit of his stomach. He didn't want to ask, afraid of what she might say. But he had to ask anyway. "Faith?"
"Yeah?"
"Did they--do something to you?" Bosco asked uneasily.
She looked at him. "What do you--" she started to ask. Then her eyes widened. "No. No, I don't think so," she answered, shaking her head.
He released the breath he'd been holding. "Thank God."
They were both silent for a moment.
"So what do we do?" Faith asked finally, looking at him.
Bosco scratched his head. "I don't know. Maybe we can--" He started to stand up.
"Hey!"
He looked over at her as she rubbed her left wrist, frowning. "Shit. I'm sorry. You okay?"
"Yeah, just give me a little warning before you decide to stand up next time, all right?"
"I forgot. Sorry," he said again.
"It's okay." They both rose to their feet at the same time.
"Maybe we're not too far from a road or a house or something," he said.
"I don't think they'd let us off somewhere and make it that easy for us to get back," she said, shaking her head.
He sighed deeply, knowing she was right. "What I don't get is why they didn't just kill us."
Faith frowned. "It doesn't really make any sense."
"No, it doesn't." He paused, pushing aside the thought for the time being. They were alive and that was all that mattered. "I guess the only thing we can do is start walking, right? I mean, eventually there has to be an end to the woods."
"Yeah, eventually. The question is, what direction do we go?"
Bosco looked up. The treetops were blocking his view of the sky. "If I could see the sun, I'd be able to tell what time it was and what direction we were headed in."
"Guess that option's out," Faith remarked with a sigh.
"Guess so." He looked around. "That way," he said, nodding to their left.
"You sure?"
"Got a better idea?" he snapped.
Faith stared at him for a moment, a look of hurt crossing her face before she looked away. "No."
He sighed and closed his eyes. "I'm sorry, all right? I didn't mean to bite your head off."
"Fine."
"You ready?" he asked, glancing down at their bound hands.
"Yeah."
Without another word, they headed to the left, deeper into the woods.
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"Let's take a break," Bosco suggested.
Faith nodded her agreement. "Sounds good to me."
They'd been walking for what felt like hours, but it was hard to tell since they had no idea what time it was. They sat down together, both leaning against the trunk of a tree.
She took a long, deep breath and exhaled slowly, trying to ease some of the tension from her body. She had a dull headache and her stomach ached terribly. She found herself wishing she'd listened to Bosco when he'd told her to eat more pizza. She grimaced as she pulled her knees up, then reached down to rub her sore feet, which were killing her thanks to the one-size-too-small tennis shoes that Chevchinko and his men had put on her.
"This sucks," Bosco announced, picking up a twig and hurling it at a tree a few feet away.
"No kidding," she muttered. Her stomach growled.
He glanced at her. "Told you ya should've eaten more pizza."
"Shut up, Boz."
There was a moment of silence.
"I have to pee."
Faith groaned and buried her face in her free hand.
"Hey, I'm not real happy about this, either, all right?" he said defensively.
"What are you complaining about? All you have to do is whip it out. What am I supposed to do when I have to go?" she demanded.
Bosco sighed and rubbed his head. That was a good question. "I don't know, but I really have to go." He looked at her, waited until she was ready to stand up, then rose to his feet. They walked a little way, then stopped.
"Turn around," he said, feeling uncomfortable.
Faith rolled her eyes. "Oh, yeah. Like I wanted to watch." She turned around so their backs were to each other.
A moment later, "Well, at least I'm still wearing my own boxers," Bosco commented. She could hear the grin in his voice and she shook her head. After another moment, he turned to face her. "Done."
"Good for you."
"You need to go?"
"Not that badly," she muttered, embarrassed.
He shrugged. "Suit yourself." Bosco looked around. "Should we walk some more?"
"Yeah," Faith answered tiredly. "We'll have to stop when it gets dark and who knows how long that'll be from now?"
He nodded. "Maybe we'll be out of here by dark."
Somehow she seriously doubted that. And from the look on Bosco's face, she knew he did, too.
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"I think we're going in circles."
Bosco looked at her. "We're not."
"Yeah?" She nodded toward the ground that lay in front of them. "Then how do you explain the shoe prints?"
He stared at them, then turned and looked behind them. "Son of a bitch! I can't believe this," he said angrily.
Faith sighed and leaned heavily against a tree.
He studied her, concerned by how pale she was. "Maybe we should stop for the night, try to get some sleep."
"It is getting dark," she commented. "Might not be a bad idea."
"Good. I'm exhausted. I feel like I could sleep for a week," he complained.
"You and me both."
They found a large pile of dead leaves a few yards away and decided that that was the closest thing they were going to find for pillows. They both laid down on the ground on their backs.
"Night, Bosco."
He glanced over her. "Night, Faith." Bosco stared up at the trees, wondering why everything was so quiet. Other than a few crickets chirping occasionally, and the wind blowing through the leaves, all was still. He frowned, then swallowed. His throat was dry and he was hungry.
"We'll have to do something about food and water tomorrow," she said, her voice breaking through the quietness as though she was reading his mind.
"Yeah, I think that has to be our first goal," he agreed. He glanced over at her. "You ever been camping?"
"Sort of. When I was a kid, Stanley and I had this tent we'd pitch in the backyard once in awhile when our dad would get drunk. I mean, most of the time we'd just hide in our rooms until he sobered up, but every once in while we just couldn't stand being in the same house with him." Her voice was quiet, distant.
Bosco gazed at her in the darkness. "Did he ever...uh...did he ever hurt you?" he asked, swallowing hard.
There was a moment of silence.
"No. He never laid a hand on either of us. Or Mom," she said finally.
"Physical abuse isn't the only way to hurt someone," he said, his voice quiet. He leaned up on one elbow, faced toward her. "Was he mean to you?"
Faith sighed and raised herself up to peer at him. "Bosco, why do you want to know all these things?"
"Because you never talk about your life, what things were like for you when you were growing up, and... I just... I wanna know, Faith."
She reached up with her free hand and plucked a leaf out of her hair. "Was he mean to me? Yeah. Yeah, he was. Nothing I ever did was good enough. It didn't matter what it was: school, work, fixing dinner." She shook her head. "I never brought friends to the house because I was afraid of what he'd say to them. Or what he'd say to me in front of them."
Bosco waited for her to continue, but when she didn't, he let out the breath he'd been holding. "I'm sorry, Faith."
She shrugged, her gaze on the ground between them. "Don't be."
He nodded, looked at the ground. "Guess neither of our dads could have competed for the Father of the Century Award, huh?"
"Probably not, no," Faith agreed. She laid back down on her back.
"You ever miss your brother?" he wondered aloud.
"Yeah, sometimes," she admitted.
"You guys close growing up?"
"I guess so. I mean, we kinda had to be."
"Yeah." Bosco laid back down and stared up the treetops.
"You miss Mikey?" she asked softly.
"I miss the way he used to be. The way he was before dad screwed him up," he replied.
"What was he like?"
Bosco took a deep breath. "He was a good kid. Did really well in school. He was smart, really smart. He could've gone onto college and been like a doctor something. But Mikey, he was... he was sensitive. Believed all of Daddy Dearest's B.S. about how stupid and worthless he was. He dropped out of school and started taking drugs. He threw his life away because of that asshole." He shook his head angrily.
He heard the rustle of leaves and looked up to see her gazing down at him. She reached out and squeezed his arm gently, remaining silent.
Bosco let out a breath and managed to smile at her. She smiled back faintly and laid back down. They were both silent for a long time. "Hey, Faith."
"Yeah?"
He hesitated, hoping what he wanted to say didn't come out wrong. "I'm glad you're here."
"What?" He could hear the confusion in her voice.
"With me... I mean, instead of someone else," Bosco said, stumbling over his words.
"Yeah, well, you're stuck with me, so that's good," she joked.
He smiled faintly. "I mean it, Faith."
There was another moment of silence. "I'd rather be stuck with you than anyone else, too, Boz." She paused. "Except maybe George Clooney."
He chuckled. "Good to know I rate right up there with Clooney." He glanced over her. "You'd rather be handcuffed to me than Fred?"
She didn't answer him.
Bosco frowned. "Faith?"
She exhaled slowly. "Yeah. Because he'd be on my case the entire time about how this whole thing is my fault."
"It's not your fault," he said instantly.
"He's divorcing me."
His mouth dropped open. "What?"
There was a long pause. "He said the only good things that ever came out of us being together are Em and Charlie. That I never made him happy."
Bosco was furious. "That asshole!"
"He was just being honest," she said quietly.
"No, Faith. He was being mean," he replied angrily.
"We've never been happy together, Boz. The only reason we got married in the first place was because I got pregnant with Emily. I haven't been in love with Fred for a long time."
He studied her in the dark. "Damn, Faith. I'm sorry." He shook his head. "What are you gonna do?"
She sighed deeply. "We'll have joint custody of the kids. I'll be looking for a smaller apartment."
"Fred's gonna keep you guys' place?"
"No. He's moving, too."
"Then why can't you stay?"
"I can't afford that apartment, Bosco. Not without the money Fred's bringing in with his delivery job."
"If you need a place to stay until you find another apartment, you're welcome to stay with me," Bosco offered.
She glanced over at him. "Thanks, but I'd probably drive you nuts in two days."
"What? No, you wouldn't. Did he tell you that, too?" he asked, feeling angry again.
Faith didn't answer.
"Whatever he said to you, Faith, he was wrong. He's a jerk and he's a moron. Don't believe him."
"Thanks, Boz," she said, her voice soft.
He nodded, wishing her husband was there so he could punch him in the face.
They both quieted down, lost in their own thoughts. Bosco was beginning to think she'd managed to fall asleep, when she spoke again.
"Bosco?"
"Yeah?"
"I have to go to the bathroom."
Author: X_tremeroswellian
Email: faithboscorelli1@yahoo.com
Disclaimer: Only in my dreams do I actually own anything. All are property of Edward Allen Bernero and John Wells.
Rating: R for language, violence and sexual content
Spoilers: Up through and including "233 Days."
Summary: Bosco and Faith find themselves in a predicament in which they can use only their instincts to survive.
Distribution: My site Only Time, 55-HQ, and fanfiction.net. Others, just ask and I'll probably say yes.
Category: Story
Subcategories: Action/adventure/thriller/suspense/romance/friendship/drama/angst...does that narrow it down too much? *wink wink*
Feedback: Makes me write faster.
Author's Note: I sort of got this idea from a third season episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. But just for the very general plot idea. The rest came out of my own messed up mind. :)
Dedication: For Dem and Bree
The Rules of the Game (Prologue)
"I can't go any farther."
Bosco stopped and turned around, taking the moment to catch his breath. "You don't have a choice, Faith. Come on," he urged. He could hear the dogs barking off in the distance.
She shook her head and leaned against the trunk of a large oak tree. "I can't. Just go on." She waved her hand at him.
"Yeah, right," he replied sarcastically.
Faith looked at him, beads of sweat glistening on her forehead. "Bosco, just go."
"I am not leaving you here," he said firmly. He walked over to her, wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her forward. "Come on. We have to keep moving."
For several long moments, all Bosco could hear was the crunching of leaves and twigs as the two of them moved through the dense forest. Then there was another sound, soft at first.
She stopped, grabbed his arm. "Do you hear that?"
He could see the fear in her eyes and it made him nervous. It wasn't a sight he was used to seeing. "Yeah. It sounds like--"
"A horse," she finished.
"Come on. We gotta get out of here," Bosco said urgently.
"Yeah, but which way is it coming from?"
He paused momentarily. She had a point. In the woods it was easy to get disoriented and it was hard to decipher what direction one particular noise was coming from. He turned in a full circle, then nodded uncertainly to their right. "Let's go that way."
Faith nodded and started to follow him. They walked quickly for a short distance.
The noise was getting closer. He could hear the sound of hoofbeats galloping through the foliage. He glanced at her sideways. "Run!"
She didn't have to be told twice.
Bosco hoped to God there weren't anymore traps hidden under the dead leaves, but at the moment, he was more worried by the thought of the horseback rider catching up to them.
He heard Faith cry out from behind him, and he immediately turned. He saw that she was lying on the ground, clutching her ankle. Shit, he thought as he rushed to her side. "You okay?"
She looked up at him, her face contorted with pain. He could tell she was trying not to cry. "I think it's sprained."
He closed his eyes momentarily, then opened them again, looking around. His gaze settled back on her. "Can you walk?"
Faith swallowed hard. "I don't know."
He held his hand out and pulled her to her feet. He saw the look of pain flash over her face, though she tried her best to suppress it.
"I don't think so, Boz," she said, shaking her head as she leaned back against the nearest tree, keeping her weight on her other foot.
He hesitated only a moment. "Put your arms around my neck."
"What?" Faith asked, frowning in confusion.
"I'm gonna carry you. Put your arms around my neck."
She shook her head in refusal. "Forget it. You're just gonna have to go on without me."
"Like hell," Bosco replied, taking a step toward her.
"Bosco, I'll just slow you down. This way at least one of us has a chance of making it out of here."
"I'm not leaving you here, Faith, so forget it!"
"There's no reason for both of us to get caught," she argued.
"If you get caught, so do I. Deal with it," Bosco told her, knowing without a doubt that if the situation was reversed, she wouldn't leave his side.
Before she had a chance to respond, the whinny of a horse pierced the air. He turned to see a big man on the animal's back, just yards away from them.
"Oh, fuck," he said under his breath. There was no time to run and no place to hide. This is it, he thought. They'd survived for four days and now they were going to be caught.
"Bosco," she whispered fearfully, her hand clutching his arm tightly.
He turned to look at her, emotions crashing over him. There was so much he wanted to say to her. "I'm really sorry," he whispered.
"Me, too," she whispered back.
Bosco reached out and gently touched her face, tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. A wave of fear surged through him and he turned to see the man on the horse galloping toward them. He didn't even care at this point what happened to him. But he was terrified of what would happen to Faith. He stepped in front of her protectively, glaring at the man as he stopped the horse only a couple feet away from them.
The man grinned, looking down the barrel of his shotgun at them. "Well, well, well. Lookie what I found."
* * *
Part One
Five Days Before
"I've got a couple of leads."
Bosco glanced over at Faith as she climbed into the passenger seat of their squad. "On--?"
"Chevchinko," she responded, not looking at him.
"I thought Sullivan found him."
"He did. But without Sergey's testimony, we've got nothing on him."
He shook his head, disgusted. "So what are your leads?"
She looked straight ahead, out the windshield. "According to Mazie, they've got a drug ring going in that old warehouse on 22nd and Rochester."
Bosco looked at her. "And the other lead?"
Faith hesitated momentarily. "An illegal medical operation facility. Supposedly they're taking random people and using them as unwilling organ donors, then selling the organs on the black market."
"Where'd you hear that one from?"
She shrugged. "It's a rumor on the street. I think it may be unfounded."
"Hopefully." Bosco grimaced. "Although with as many missing person's reports that are filled out everyday in this city, anything's possible, I guess."
"Yeah." She shuddered.
"What's the address on that one?"
"Cantrell and Minister. Out by the docks, in the old paper factory."
He frowned, then started the engine. "Be a convenient place to run that kind of an operation, what, with the capability of hauling corpses out to sea right there."
She nodded. "Should we check it out?"
Before he could answer, their radios crackled to life. "Any units available, please report to 27th and and Edgar for a possible 10-29."
Bosco grabbed his radio. "55-David responding, Central."
"10-4, 55-David," the dispatcher replied.
He glanced over at Faith. "We'll check that lead out later."
"Okay," she agreed, fastening her seatbelt as he pulled their squad onto the road, flipping on the lights and sirens.
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"You all right?"
Faith glanced across the table to see Bosco gazing at her with a frown on his face as he ate another slice of pizza. "Yeah. Why?"
"You've been quiet all day," he replied with a mouth full of food.
She made a face and sipped her pepsi, looking out the window of the pizza place. "Just thinking."
"About--?"
She shrugged, feeling uncomfortable. "Nothing."
Bosco raised an eyebrow. "Right."
She didn't respond. She didn't want to tell him because she knew he'd only get on her case about it and she didn't feel like listening to it right then. "You done yet?"
"Geez, Yokas. What's your rush? We've got fifteen minutes left for dinner."
Faith sat back against the booth, trying to tamp down her impatience.
"You didn't eat very much," he remarked.
"Not hungry."
He frowned again, leaning forward. "You should eat more, Faith."
"Why's that?"
"Well, because you never know when we'll have time to stop again."
"Yeah, well, if I get hungry, I'll just wait until I get home."
"You've been losing weight," he commented.
Faith looked up at him, surprised he'd noticed. "Yeah."
"You're not sick again, are you?" His voice was casual, but his eyes were worried.
"No, Bosco, I'm not sick again," she said with a sigh. She pushed her plate away.
He studied her for a moment longer. "Wanna go check out those leads of yours?"
"That'd be good." She finished off her soda and waited as he did the same. They stood up. She reached into her pocket for some money.
"You paid. I'll get the tip," he told her, pulling out his wallet. He dropped a five dollar bill on the table and followed her out the door. "Where to first?" he asked, handing her the keys.
"We're closer to the docks," she pointed out, walking around to the driver's side of their squad.
"Spare parts operation it is, then," Bosco agreed, sliding into the passenger seat.
Faith made a face at his casual description and stuck the keys in the ignition, starting the engine. "I really, really hope this is a false rumor."
"You and me both," Bosco replied with a grimace. "Just think of all the paperwork we'd have to do."
She shook her head as she pulled the car onto the road.
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"This is it," Faith said, her voice low as she parked the squad outside of the abandoned factory.
Bosco stared at the building. "Think it's safe to go in?"
"I don't know. What do you think?"
He shrugged lightly. "I say let's check it out."
She nodded, and climbed out of the car, her hand resting on her gun holster. Bosco did the same, walking beside her up to the building. They approached the door cautiously.
Faith drew her weapon and motioned for Bosco to get on the other side of the door. He did so and on her count, he swung it open and followed her in.
The building was dark and completely silent. There was a cold chill in the air. He took the flashlight off his belt and flipped it on, shining it around. Cobwebs decorated what was left of the machinery and he caught sight of a rat scurrying across the floor, and then disappearing behind a pile of wood. "I don't think anyone's been here for awhile," he said, turning back to her.
Faith nodded toward a descending stairwell to their right. There was a door at the bottom of the stops. "Basement?"
Bosco shrugged, then headed toward them, shining the flashlight on each stair so they didn't fall. He glanced back to see her standing behind him, then he turned the door handle slowly.
The door opened slightly and he could instantly see light from inside the room. "Jackpot," he said under his breath, drawing his weapon from its holster. He pushed the door open a bit more and he could hear voices inside. He crouched down and strained to hear what was being said.
"...new location," a male voice said.
"Where?" another voice asked. This one belonged to a male, as well, and had a very distinctive accent.
Bosco glanced at Faith.
"Chevchinko," she said, her voice barely audible.
He nodded, then turned to listen again.
"...island off the coast..."
"...secure?"
"Yes, Sir..."
Bosco frowned, then leaned closer, trying to catch what he was missing.
"...all set."
"Except for new victims."
"Yes."
"...can find a solution to our little problem," Chevchinko said, giving a short laugh.
He turned to look at his partner again. "Let's go in there and arrest him."
"Maybe we should call for back-up," she suggested, hesitant.
"I thought you wanted to catch this guy."
"I do, but--"
"Then let's do it." Bosco stood up from his crouched position and pushed the door open the rest of the way. He rounded the corner, pointing his gun at Chevchinko. "Police! Nobody move!"
Chevchinko turned to look at him, surprise clear on his face. "Can I help you, Officer?"
"You're under arrest," Bosco told him.
"For what?" he asked, his voice calm.
"Probable cause at the moment," he responded.
"I haven't done anything," Chevchinko said innocently. He turned his gaze to Faith. "Officer Yokas. So good to see you again." He smirked.
"Put your hands in the air where I can see them," Bosco commanded the two men.
They both complied.
He pulled out his handcuffs. "We're taking you both down to the station."
"I don't think so, Officer."
Bosco glared at him. "You don't, huh? Well, gee. I'm all broken up about that."
"You'll point that gun away from me before it costs Officer Yokas her life," Chevchinko said cooly, nodding toward Faith.
A sinking feeling in his stomach, he turned slowly and saw a big man standing behind his partner, one arm locked around her neck and a gun pressed against her temple. He met her eyes. Oh, shit, he thought.
"Put your gun down on the floor, Officer."
"Unless you want to see her pretty little head blown off," the man standing by Chevchinko added.
His mind instantly flashed to seeing Ross after the shooting and a wave of nausea washed over him. He bent down slowly and set his gun on the concrete floor, his gaze never leaving Faith's. "All right. I did as you asked. Now you can let her go."
The man holding Faith shoved her forward roughly, causing her to stumble. She caught her balance before she fell, then turned to glare at the man.
He simply grinned back at her.
"What do you want, Chevchinko?" Faith demanded angrily.
"What do I want?" He walked over to her. "What every man wants. Money. A nice home. To be able to take care of my family. Mostly I want the New York Police Officers to leave me alone."
"Yeah? Then quit breaking the damned law!" Bosco snapped.
Chevchinko smirked at him, then looked at her. "You have a different partner, I see. What is his name?"
She just looked back at him, remaining silent.
His eyes narrowed and he nodded his head slightly.
The big man came up behind her and shoved the gun into her back.
"Maurice Boscorelli!" Bosco answered, glaring at the man. "Want me to spell it for you?"
"That won't be necessary." Chevchinko turned to him again. "Boscorelli...is that an Italian name?"
"Yeah, after my father. He's a real asshole. You're probably related somehow!" he said angrily, upset that the man still had a gun pointed at his partner's back.
Chevchinko raised an eyebrow. "He has quite a temper, Officer Yokas. I like your other partner better."
"Screw you!" Bosco snapped.
"Bosco." Faith looked over at him and shook her head.
He shut his mouth, but glared at the man.
She turned her attention to Chevchinko. "Look. Why don't you let us go and we can pretend like none of this ever happened."
Chevchinko looked at her. "I think we all know better than that, Officer Yokas. No, I think you know as well as I do that if I let you go, you'd have a warrent for my arrest in less than an hour. And since I can't let you go, then I must decide what to do with the two of you."
"Anything happens to us, and this place is gonna be crawling with cops," Bosco warned. "It's only a matter of time before our backup gets here."
The older man seemed to consider his words. Then he smiled. "Then I guess we'll just have to take you somewhere else, won't we?"
Bosco met Faith's gaze.
Chevchinko nodded his head, and he watched in horror as the man grabbed Faith from behind, shoving a white cloth over her mouth and nose. She struggled, her eyes wide with fear.
"Faith!" he shouted. He made it exactly two steps before the other man slammed something down on the back of his head. He fell to the floor, his head pouding and his vision growing blurry. He watched helplessly as his partner's limp body tumbled to the floor a few feet away.
"I think you just solved our dilemma, Sir," one of the men said.
"Yes," he heard Chevchinko agree. "They're both healthy, young, strong...they'll make excellent specimens."
The last thing he heard was the laughter of the three men. Then Bosco passed out.
* * *
Part Two
"Bosco. Bosco, can you hear me? Wake up!"
He groaned, his head pounding as though he'd had a few too many drinks the night before. And he was shaking. Either New York City was in the midst of an earthquake or he was having some kind of seizure.
No, he realized.
Someone was shaking him.
"Bosco, please wake up!"
A familiar voice was calling to him, an urgency to the person's tone.
He somehow managed to open his eyes, and he squinted. He found himself staring up into a pair of beautiful, worried brown eyes.
"Thank God. I've been trying to wake you up for like twenty minutes. I thought you might be in a coma."
Bosco blinked a couple times, feeling confused. "Faith?" he asked groggily, trying to figure out why she was at his apartment waking him up.
"Yeah, it's me," she answered, her strawberry blond hair hanging down in her face as she remained leaning over him.
"What are you doing here?"
"I think the question to ask is where is 'here?'" she replied, glancing around nervously.
He frowned. "Huh?"
Her gaze returned to his face. "Do you remember anything?"
"Not so much," he admitted.
"Yeah, well, there's something you should--"
Bosco moved his right hand up to touch the side of his head, but instead found Faith lying on top of him. "What the--"
"That's what I was trying to tell you." She winced as she moved off him. She held up her left hand and his right hand raised up along with it.
Bosco stared at the handcuffs in disbelief. "What the fuck?" He struggled to sit up, and managed to do so with some effort. He looked around, stunned to see nothing but trees and bushes surrounding them. "What the hell is going on?"
"I don't know. What's the last thing you remember?"
He closed his eyes, trying to recall what had happened. "Going into some abandoned factory...Chevchinko was there. Shit. One of his goons hit me with something." He rubbed the back of his head gingerly with his left hand. Then he opened his eyes and looked at her in concern. "Are you hurt?"
"I'm a little nauseus from the chloroform," she admitted, her face a bit paler than usual.
"Those fuckers," he cursed. He looked around again. "This is how they decided to get rid of us? By dropping us off in the middle of a damned forest?"
"At least we're still alive," she pointed out.
"Just wait until I get my hands on that stupid S.O.B. I'll wring his scrawny neck," Bosco muttered.
"Yeah, well, you'll have to find him first."
He heard the slight tremor in her voice and he quickly focused his gaze on her face. "What's wrong?"
"You mean besides the fact that we don't know where we are, how we got here, or how to get back? That's not enough?"
He started to reply when he realized that she was no longer wearing her uniform. She had on a white tank top, a pair of jeans and tennis shoes. He looked down and saw that he was no longer wearing his uniform, either. Instead, he had on a pair of jeans, tennis shoes, and a green t-shirt with a long-sleeved button down denim shirt over it. "They changed our clothes?" he said in disbelief.
Faith didn't respond. She was staring down at the ground.
A sick feeling settled in the pit of his stomach. He didn't want to ask, afraid of what she might say. But he had to ask anyway. "Faith?"
"Yeah?"
"Did they--do something to you?" Bosco asked uneasily.
She looked at him. "What do you--" she started to ask. Then her eyes widened. "No. No, I don't think so," she answered, shaking her head.
He released the breath he'd been holding. "Thank God."
They were both silent for a moment.
"So what do we do?" Faith asked finally, looking at him.
Bosco scratched his head. "I don't know. Maybe we can--" He started to stand up.
"Hey!"
He looked over at her as she rubbed her left wrist, frowning. "Shit. I'm sorry. You okay?"
"Yeah, just give me a little warning before you decide to stand up next time, all right?"
"I forgot. Sorry," he said again.
"It's okay." They both rose to their feet at the same time.
"Maybe we're not too far from a road or a house or something," he said.
"I don't think they'd let us off somewhere and make it that easy for us to get back," she said, shaking her head.
He sighed deeply, knowing she was right. "What I don't get is why they didn't just kill us."
Faith frowned. "It doesn't really make any sense."
"No, it doesn't." He paused, pushing aside the thought for the time being. They were alive and that was all that mattered. "I guess the only thing we can do is start walking, right? I mean, eventually there has to be an end to the woods."
"Yeah, eventually. The question is, what direction do we go?"
Bosco looked up. The treetops were blocking his view of the sky. "If I could see the sun, I'd be able to tell what time it was and what direction we were headed in."
"Guess that option's out," Faith remarked with a sigh.
"Guess so." He looked around. "That way," he said, nodding to their left.
"You sure?"
"Got a better idea?" he snapped.
Faith stared at him for a moment, a look of hurt crossing her face before she looked away. "No."
He sighed and closed his eyes. "I'm sorry, all right? I didn't mean to bite your head off."
"Fine."
"You ready?" he asked, glancing down at their bound hands.
"Yeah."
Without another word, they headed to the left, deeper into the woods.
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"Let's take a break," Bosco suggested.
Faith nodded her agreement. "Sounds good to me."
They'd been walking for what felt like hours, but it was hard to tell since they had no idea what time it was. They sat down together, both leaning against the trunk of a tree.
She took a long, deep breath and exhaled slowly, trying to ease some of the tension from her body. She had a dull headache and her stomach ached terribly. She found herself wishing she'd listened to Bosco when he'd told her to eat more pizza. She grimaced as she pulled her knees up, then reached down to rub her sore feet, which were killing her thanks to the one-size-too-small tennis shoes that Chevchinko and his men had put on her.
"This sucks," Bosco announced, picking up a twig and hurling it at a tree a few feet away.
"No kidding," she muttered. Her stomach growled.
He glanced at her. "Told you ya should've eaten more pizza."
"Shut up, Boz."
There was a moment of silence.
"I have to pee."
Faith groaned and buried her face in her free hand.
"Hey, I'm not real happy about this, either, all right?" he said defensively.
"What are you complaining about? All you have to do is whip it out. What am I supposed to do when I have to go?" she demanded.
Bosco sighed and rubbed his head. That was a good question. "I don't know, but I really have to go." He looked at her, waited until she was ready to stand up, then rose to his feet. They walked a little way, then stopped.
"Turn around," he said, feeling uncomfortable.
Faith rolled her eyes. "Oh, yeah. Like I wanted to watch." She turned around so their backs were to each other.
A moment later, "Well, at least I'm still wearing my own boxers," Bosco commented. She could hear the grin in his voice and she shook her head. After another moment, he turned to face her. "Done."
"Good for you."
"You need to go?"
"Not that badly," she muttered, embarrassed.
He shrugged. "Suit yourself." Bosco looked around. "Should we walk some more?"
"Yeah," Faith answered tiredly. "We'll have to stop when it gets dark and who knows how long that'll be from now?"
He nodded. "Maybe we'll be out of here by dark."
Somehow she seriously doubted that. And from the look on Bosco's face, she knew he did, too.
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"I think we're going in circles."
Bosco looked at her. "We're not."
"Yeah?" She nodded toward the ground that lay in front of them. "Then how do you explain the shoe prints?"
He stared at them, then turned and looked behind them. "Son of a bitch! I can't believe this," he said angrily.
Faith sighed and leaned heavily against a tree.
He studied her, concerned by how pale she was. "Maybe we should stop for the night, try to get some sleep."
"It is getting dark," she commented. "Might not be a bad idea."
"Good. I'm exhausted. I feel like I could sleep for a week," he complained.
"You and me both."
They found a large pile of dead leaves a few yards away and decided that that was the closest thing they were going to find for pillows. They both laid down on the ground on their backs.
"Night, Bosco."
He glanced over her. "Night, Faith." Bosco stared up at the trees, wondering why everything was so quiet. Other than a few crickets chirping occasionally, and the wind blowing through the leaves, all was still. He frowned, then swallowed. His throat was dry and he was hungry.
"We'll have to do something about food and water tomorrow," she said, her voice breaking through the quietness as though she was reading his mind.
"Yeah, I think that has to be our first goal," he agreed. He glanced over at her. "You ever been camping?"
"Sort of. When I was a kid, Stanley and I had this tent we'd pitch in the backyard once in awhile when our dad would get drunk. I mean, most of the time we'd just hide in our rooms until he sobered up, but every once in while we just couldn't stand being in the same house with him." Her voice was quiet, distant.
Bosco gazed at her in the darkness. "Did he ever...uh...did he ever hurt you?" he asked, swallowing hard.
There was a moment of silence.
"No. He never laid a hand on either of us. Or Mom," she said finally.
"Physical abuse isn't the only way to hurt someone," he said, his voice quiet. He leaned up on one elbow, faced toward her. "Was he mean to you?"
Faith sighed and raised herself up to peer at him. "Bosco, why do you want to know all these things?"
"Because you never talk about your life, what things were like for you when you were growing up, and... I just... I wanna know, Faith."
She reached up with her free hand and plucked a leaf out of her hair. "Was he mean to me? Yeah. Yeah, he was. Nothing I ever did was good enough. It didn't matter what it was: school, work, fixing dinner." She shook her head. "I never brought friends to the house because I was afraid of what he'd say to them. Or what he'd say to me in front of them."
Bosco waited for her to continue, but when she didn't, he let out the breath he'd been holding. "I'm sorry, Faith."
She shrugged, her gaze on the ground between them. "Don't be."
He nodded, looked at the ground. "Guess neither of our dads could have competed for the Father of the Century Award, huh?"
"Probably not, no," Faith agreed. She laid back down on her back.
"You ever miss your brother?" he wondered aloud.
"Yeah, sometimes," she admitted.
"You guys close growing up?"
"I guess so. I mean, we kinda had to be."
"Yeah." Bosco laid back down and stared up the treetops.
"You miss Mikey?" she asked softly.
"I miss the way he used to be. The way he was before dad screwed him up," he replied.
"What was he like?"
Bosco took a deep breath. "He was a good kid. Did really well in school. He was smart, really smart. He could've gone onto college and been like a doctor something. But Mikey, he was... he was sensitive. Believed all of Daddy Dearest's B.S. about how stupid and worthless he was. He dropped out of school and started taking drugs. He threw his life away because of that asshole." He shook his head angrily.
He heard the rustle of leaves and looked up to see her gazing down at him. She reached out and squeezed his arm gently, remaining silent.
Bosco let out a breath and managed to smile at her. She smiled back faintly and laid back down. They were both silent for a long time. "Hey, Faith."
"Yeah?"
He hesitated, hoping what he wanted to say didn't come out wrong. "I'm glad you're here."
"What?" He could hear the confusion in her voice.
"With me... I mean, instead of someone else," Bosco said, stumbling over his words.
"Yeah, well, you're stuck with me, so that's good," she joked.
He smiled faintly. "I mean it, Faith."
There was another moment of silence. "I'd rather be stuck with you than anyone else, too, Boz." She paused. "Except maybe George Clooney."
He chuckled. "Good to know I rate right up there with Clooney." He glanced over her. "You'd rather be handcuffed to me than Fred?"
She didn't answer him.
Bosco frowned. "Faith?"
She exhaled slowly. "Yeah. Because he'd be on my case the entire time about how this whole thing is my fault."
"It's not your fault," he said instantly.
"He's divorcing me."
His mouth dropped open. "What?"
There was a long pause. "He said the only good things that ever came out of us being together are Em and Charlie. That I never made him happy."
Bosco was furious. "That asshole!"
"He was just being honest," she said quietly.
"No, Faith. He was being mean," he replied angrily.
"We've never been happy together, Boz. The only reason we got married in the first place was because I got pregnant with Emily. I haven't been in love with Fred for a long time."
He studied her in the dark. "Damn, Faith. I'm sorry." He shook his head. "What are you gonna do?"
She sighed deeply. "We'll have joint custody of the kids. I'll be looking for a smaller apartment."
"Fred's gonna keep you guys' place?"
"No. He's moving, too."
"Then why can't you stay?"
"I can't afford that apartment, Bosco. Not without the money Fred's bringing in with his delivery job."
"If you need a place to stay until you find another apartment, you're welcome to stay with me," Bosco offered.
She glanced over at him. "Thanks, but I'd probably drive you nuts in two days."
"What? No, you wouldn't. Did he tell you that, too?" he asked, feeling angry again.
Faith didn't answer.
"Whatever he said to you, Faith, he was wrong. He's a jerk and he's a moron. Don't believe him."
"Thanks, Boz," she said, her voice soft.
He nodded, wishing her husband was there so he could punch him in the face.
They both quieted down, lost in their own thoughts. Bosco was beginning to think she'd managed to fall asleep, when she spoke again.
"Bosco?"
"Yeah?"
"I have to go to the bathroom."