Title: Face to Face

Author: Laura Lee

Ratings: R - adult content, adult situation

Genre: Gen

Category: Drama

Pairing(s): Kowalski/Female

Spoilers: None

Archiving: to WWOMB only. Others, please ask for permission

Teaser: Will Stan choose a life of crime or will he survive this life at all?

Official Teaser: The real teaser to this story is a song, but it is *not* a song story. I have included the words to the song after the words "THE END" in the last section. You can email a request for the words anytime you'd like or you can see it at the end.

Disclaimer: Due South and its characters belong to Alliance. No copyright infringement intended. Just borrowing. Everything else is, of course, mine and I don't share unless I've been asked.

Additional notes:
HUGE TYK to my beta readers on this one. I know I was a huge pest this time around.
In the end, this is about the same length as my other stories, but broken into much smaller parts. I am posting a part a day for the surprise effect, but you can email me anytime and ask for any part or the story in its entirety.

Constructive feedback is appreciated. Please, if you must, slam me off list.

Email: vbrooks@if.rmci.net

Face To Face

by Laura Lee

Stan and Fraser spent many months bonding on the frozen tundra. That was just about the only thing they did. Eventually Stan grew tired of the frozen world, the frozen fingertips, the overturned dogsleds, the stupid grin on Fraser's face, and the lack of more human contact.

Fraser was posted in the northern Yukon, which made him extremely happy. Stan had gone home to Chicago, realizing it was where he belonged. He'd gotten his job back when there was a new opening at the 27^th, but no one he knew was left except Lieutenant Welsh. For a while he felt as alone as he had on the ice.

It was quickly set in stone that Stan would call Fraser twice a week. Often Fraser was not there to answer the call because he did not spend much time at his desk, let alone in the station. Stan would usually leave a message and try again, however, so they always met up. They would catch up for an hour or so and every time Stan hung up, he'd remember what he was missing.

~~~~~~

Stan hung up the phone and reclined on the couch. He thought about the words his good friend spoke just as they wrapped up their conversation.

"Perhaps it is necessary for you to find someplace to go or something to do, Stan. You used to enjoy dancing, didn't you?"

"Yeah, but with Stella."

His friend had been quiet. "I'm sure if you look you will find something to suit you."

'Something to suit me.' Stan twisted and made himself a little more comfortable. He closed his eyes.

The sun assaulted him as it burned through the window. He sat up and rubbed his eyes. Picking up the beer bottles he'd sipped on while talking to Fraser the night before, he walked to the kitchen. He threw them away, then thought back on the day Fraser had given him a lecture on cleanliness. Fraser had somehow managed to seep into some of his behaviours. That would have to change.

He put together his unusual blend of coffee and drank it quickly. He looked around the apartment and took a deep breath before picking up his gym bag and car keys, locking the door behind him as he left.

Stan spent over an hour at the gym. He beat the hell out of the heavy punching bag and found himself nowhere except back in his car.

He looked at his watch. On a normal day, he would be working by now, but this was his day off. He hadn't had one in several weeks. The whole station had been busy. It felt wrong to be doing nothing now as he started the engine. Instead of driving away, though, he stared out the window. Someone honked and he jumped back to life.

He pulled out into the traffic and sped along the roads. Driving no where in particular and disobeying many traffic laws, his mind was preoccupied. He saw a stop sign and heard a voice in his mind.

"I believe that was a stop sign."

"My house could be burning down, and you're worried about a stop sign?"

"There is no reason to compound the tragedy."

He smiled a little as he pulled to a stop at a stop sign. Just as he was about to press the gas again a sign caught his eye. It jutted out from the building on the corner and over it hung a banner. "Live Band: FRIDAYS Vagaband -- This Friday"

He took little note of the building itself, but he was aware that it was already decorated for Halloween. It would be a few more days before October 1^st and apparently this club was starting the celebrations early.

He shrugged with a smile and continued to drive. After a while, he found himself parked across from the Canadian Consulate. He'd spent a lot of time there, picking up, dropping off. He let the memories spin in his mind as he watched the Mountie stationed at the door. He missed Fraser, but he found himself missing the temperamental Ice Queen and the missing link almost as much.

One stop at the video store and Stan was on his way home again. 'Home again, home again, jiggety jig,' he remembered saying more than once to his partner. He pushed the Steve McQueen movie into the VCR and listened to the whirring as it began its automatic play. A few beers later, the movie was over. He looked at his watch and realized it would be a very long day.

~~~~~

As the sun went down, the apartment grew dark. Stan didn't turn on any lights. He was on the couch, where he had been most of the day. Feeling a void, he nearly called Fraser again. He couldn't understand how he could return to Chicago weeks ago and only now feel the loneliness. He realized as he set his hand on the receiver that this had been the first day he hadn't concentrated on work. Even on his days off he had gone in to file or write reports, but yesterday he finally caught up. There was nothing.

He had talked to Fraser the night before. Not wanting to seem too pathetic, he returned the phone to the small coffee table. He leaned back and put his feet on the table.

His eyes closed and his body relaxed, Stan let his mind wander. What he needed was someone. It was more important he found a friend, someone to rely upon, rather than something to do. 'How does one find people? They go out.' He sat up. "I could use a drink," he said softly to himself and grabbed the black leather jacket and keys near the front door.

A little surprised, he found himself parked before the club he had seen earlier. He could hear the music beating from the building. From his car, it sounded good enough. Besides, after a drink or two, he hoped he wouldn't be listening to it much anyway.

Stan ordered a whiskey sour from the bar and took it to a saloon table near the dance floor. He looked around as he drank and took in the surroundings. There were several of these tall tables around the floor and the crowd consisted of mainly mid twenties patrons. A few had odd coloured hair and unique clothing. There was a definite pattern of black. He scoffed at the few who wore capes and false fangs. He nearly started to laugh realizing he'd stumbled into a bar full of gothic youth. It was then that he put it together. The walls painted like grey stones and the mood lighting. The outside dcor popped back into his mind. He finished his whiskey sour and stood to leave.

As he put on his jacket, he bumped into someone. He turned to excuse himself and saw a woman standing before him. "Excuse me," he said with his cocky grin. She replied with a smile that stole all of his attention, but he couldn't hear her. "Huh?" he said and cocked his head.

She leaned toward his ear and moved a little higher on her toes so she could have her lips near him. "Leaving so soon?" she hissed into his ear.

Her breath was warm and it sent a tingling down his spine. "This isn't my scene," he yelled over the band, smile still on his face.

She returned the smile. "Why don't you stay for one more drink," she yelled as she pointed to his empty glass. "I'll buy."

He shook his head.

"A dance then?" She smiled and took his hand. She passed him and kept his hand so that he would turn with her. She let his hand drop back to his side then walked backward a few steps to the dance floor. She motioned for him to join with the beat of the music while beginning to move her body.

He shook his head again, but she continued to motion. He watched her dancing, moving slowly and smoothly. The black suede boots stopped at her thigh and the royal blue stretch pants accentuated the movement of her hips. A tight white blouse revealed her midriff and her long dark hair swayed back and forth. After a few minutes, he was taken in by the dark blue eyes and joined her on the dance floor.

While it wasn't his usual music or his usual surroundings, the release felt good. Just letting go of everything in his life for one night made it seem so much more bearable.

The band took a break and she led him from the floor. "Let me get you that drink now," she said over the prerecorded music.

He shook his head. "I hafta drive."

She smiled. "I'll drive then."

"I'll tell you what. I'll buy you a drink and we'll call it good."

She laughed a little and Stan loved the way it made her entire face light up. He couldn't help returning the laugh.

When she spoke, he started to realize there was something about her voice he found pleasant. He was letting her take over. "I'm not drinking tonight." She tilted her head. "What would you like?"

"Oh, I can get it. I'll pick you up a cola or somethin'." He started to get up.

She shook her head and stopped him. "I got it. You look more like you need someone to buy you a drink than someone who needs to buy one for someone else." He nodded as she stood. "What was it, then?" she asked.

"Whiskey sour." He replied simply, then waited for her return.

By the time he finished his drink the band was playing again. He followed her to the dance floor. The second drink moved through his system and he began to feel a little light headed. She moved against him while he let the sensations take over. He leaned his head back and moved with the music and with her. When he looked at her again, she took his head and extended her height to kiss him. At first he accepted it, let the sensation run through him, but all at once he took a couple steps back and turned. It had all gotten too strange. He didn't belong in a crowd like this. He didn't belong with a woman like her. His steps were quick and uneven as he made his way through the crowd to the door.

The cold air smacked his face, but he hardly felt it after the two drinks he'd had. He reached for his keys, then wondered if it was such a good idea. In his head he was thinking it had only been two small drinks, but his body felt like it was more. Just as he shook it off, he felt a hand on his arm. He turned around to see the woman again.

At first he thought the royal blue colouring in her hair was caused by the lights inside the club, but now he could see they were highlights. He also saw that she was much older than the rest of the group. The fierce lights from the street made Stan guess she was in her early thirties. He was taken in by the eyes again. A darker shade of blue than he'd seen before. Contacts, he suspected, but he hadn't seen contacts that colour either.

She put her hand over his and gently took the keys. "Let me take you home."

Taking a deep breath, Stan nodded in agreement. There was a powerful surge making it difficult for him to think of anything except agreement. She took his arm and led him to a royal blue Jeep. He leaned back in the seat and watched her start it. She drove it smoothly through the streets.

"I don't even know your name," he said after a short time.

"Aurora," she answered. "What's yours?"

"Stan, I guess." He replied softly. "My address is..."

She stopped him by putting her hand gently on his arm. "You guess your name is Stan? You don't know for sure?"

He cleared his throat. "Uh, I used to go by Ray. Went by Ray mosta my life, but I changed it to Stan a little while ago."

"Why?"

He paused. "It's a long story." He watched the road for a few minutes. She drove as though she knew where she was going. "Don't you want my address?"

She shook her head. "No. We're going to my place."

He sat up. "I don't, I mean, I, we just met five minutes ago."

She smiled. "Relax. I just thought you could stay with me and I'll drive you back to your car in the morning."

Stan was quiet for a few minutes, then he turned back to her. "Why would you want to do that? I might be some guy out to rob you or something."

She shrugged. "You're not are you?"

"Well, no, but..."

"I didn't think so."

She took him by the arm and guided him to the door of her condo. When she unlocked the door and opened it, he was immediately surprised by what he saw. The place was absolutely pristine. Simple and elegant in appearance, he felt guilty as he sat heavily on the cream couch.

"I guess I didn't eat much today," he said feebly. "I feel light headed."

"Well, you had the two drinks," she said softly. "Maybe it's just been a long day for you. What do you think?" She smiled again and he forgot what he was thinking. He felt so strange there next to her as she lowered herself to the couch.

She looked into his eyes as he stared into hers. It felt familiar, comfortable as her lips touched his again, gentle at first, then passionate. He put a hand around her neck, keeping her there as they kissed.

She made a noise and he stopped abruptly. She sat back and looked at him again. He straightened in the seat, but neither said a word. After a moment, she leaned back in and they began to kiss again, more passionately with each passing moment. He wrapped his arms around her and held her back, she moved into a more comfortable position and began to kiss his neck. He leaned his head back, closing his eyes. The sensation of her lips against his skin sent pinpricks throughout his body. He felt her stop and looked at her again. She was gently unbuttoning his shirt. She watched him watching her and curled one corner of her mouth. He couldn't resist smiling in return, his boyish grin taking over.

She opened his shirt to reveal his pale chest, then kissed him gently. He closed his eyes again, not being able to resist the way it made him feel, the way her tongue felt against his skin. She moved against him and he felt her lips touching his, her breath gently touching his face. Everything began to blur as her hands gingerly moved over every part of his body.

~~~~~~

Aurora stared at the man in her bed. 'What was I thinking? I must be crazy.' She touched his hair, curious to know whether it was mousse or gel that held the form of those soft spikes. She smiled again. From the moment she saw him, she felt a connection. It was as if she already knew him, as if they'd met before. She knew nothing about him, but she knew everything. 'But this is business.' She kissed his lips and slipped out of the room.

~~~~~

Stan opened his eyes slowly as the sun drifted into the room. It took him a moment to reorient himself. He found his arm resting comfortably over Aurora with her sleeping soundly. It took him a moment before he found the soft red numbers on the clock beside the bed. Realizing instantly that he was already an hour late for work, he went into another room and found a phone, then called for a cab. Quietly, he found his clothes and dressed. She rolled over as he slipped his shirt over his head. She sat up quickly.

"Are you leaving?"

"Work," he said simply. He sat down and put on his socks and boots while she watched. He stood. "Can I call you?" He felt abrupt after he said it, but he already knew he didn't want to lose her.

She nodded, then leaned over to the nightstand. "Here is my number. You left your car at the club. Don't you want to wait for me to get dressed and take you?" She held out a piece of paper.

He took it from her, letting his hand touch hers for a moment before pulling it away. "No, I already called a cab." He hurried from the room without another word.

~~~~~~~~~

Lieutenant Welsh stood in the doorway of his office as Stan hurried into the squad room. He looked at Welsh and his smile vanished. He bowed his head and walked past him into the office.

Welsh sat back behind his desk and said nothing. Stan assumed that meant he was waiting for an explanation.

"I'm sorry, sir. I was out late last night and..."

"Out late?" He looked angry. "I tried calling you this morning. No answer at your apartment. I needed you here this morning. I had a meeting with my commander and it didn't look too good to have you nowhere to be found."

Stan looked down. "Uh, no, sir."

"And where was your cell phone? I tried calling that and never got an answer."

Stan scrunched his face. "Shit. Sorry, Lieutenant. I left it at home."

Welsh looked very angry now. "Look, I am not going to delve into your private life, but do not let it interfere with work again. Do I make myself clear?"

Stan nodded and began to leave.

Welsh stopped him. "I had a meeting, Kowalski. I'll fill you in. Have a seat."

Stan turned back around and sat down.

"Feds are working this case, but last night it came into our jurisdiction."

"What did?"

Welsh took a deep breath. "Well, it's all been hush hush so you can't talk about it."

"Talk about what?"

"Shut up for a minute, Kowalski. This is big. Didn't you hear me? We're talkin' Feds here." He paused. "All right. Apparently we got two people out there who are thieves. Museums, jewels, whatever they can get their hands on."

Stan furrowed his brow. "We got anything? Prints? Descriptions?"

Welsh shook his head. "No. We got some video footage, but they wear baggie black clothes, masks, gloves, the works. Here's the worst part. No one who sees them lives."

Stan's eyes widened. "What?"

"One of 'em's been dubbed the cop killer. He's slight of build. Don't know much more from that. Those clothes make it hard to see on video. Whoever it is, he shoots anyone they come in contact with. Partner's lookout, apparently. They see a security guard, a cop, whatever, they shoot. Damn good aim. Every one of them is dead before the cops even get there and they are gone without a trace."

Stan looked a little horrified. "How long's this been going on?"

"Feds have followed them through three states now. They say they've been hitting places here for 3 months, but they have nothing. Last night they robbed Illy's Jewels. That's in our area so I got briefed. They're bringing in one detective from each precinct to help out."

"You mean be their gopher."

"Basically."

Stan growled. "Why me?"

"Why do you think, Detective? You've been here the longest. Not technically since you left and were rehired, but I know you know the area and the people here more than any of those other detectives out there. I trust you."

"So what am I supposed to do?"

"Go home, get your phone. They're going to call when they need you to run an errand for them."

Stan nodded. "Go now?"

"Yes," Welsh said, then watched him leave.

~~~~~~~~

Stan picked up his cellular phone and pressed the button on his answering machine with his other hand. He put the phone in his jacket as he listened to the messages from Welsh. He hit 'erase' and left to go back to work. Standing next to his car outside the building, he went with an impulse to dial the number Aurora had given him. It rang several times, but there was no answer, not even a voice messaging system. He hung up and drove to the station.

After spending the day doing legwork on a number of cases and still hearing no word from the FBI, Stan called it a day. He tried calling Aurora again, but there still was no answer.

With a deep breath, he wrote a quick note which included his cell phone number, then drove to her condo. He took off his gun and holster and placed them in the trunk of his car, then walked up to her door. As he began looking for a place to leave the note, trying to slip it between the door and the jam, it opened suddenly. Aurora stood before him, looking beautiful, her hair pulled back. He opened his mouth to speak, but didn't say anything.

"I heard something," she began. "I saw you through the peephole." She pointed at the small mechanism in the door.

"Oh, I was, uh..."

She motioned him inside and into the living room. She sat beside him on the couch and smiled brightly.

"I was going to leave you my number. You weren't home when I called."

She nodded. "I was out today. I had a lot of things to do. Work and everything," she paused. "What is your number?"

He gave her the note and pointed that they were written at the bottom.

"Thank you," she said and put a hand on his leg. "I thought about you today."

Stan felt warm, glowing. "I thought about you." He sat there quiet a moment. "Isn't this strange? It's like I know you."

She nodded. "I know you, too," she said gently.

"Are you busy tonight?" he said timidly.

She nodded. "I am, I'm afraid. I have a meeting."

"Oh," he said quietly, then looked around the room. He noticed the coffee table was glass with a blue frosted vase as a centerpiece. Behind them was another glass table with a selection of coloured, carved glass. "What do you do that you have to meet someone tonight?"

"I'm an investor," she replied simply. She looked at her watch. "I should get ready to go soon."

He stood. "All right."

She stood beside him and opened the door for him. He was about to walk out, but he stopped mid step. He leaned toward her and they kissed. He wrapped an arm around her so she couldn't move away before he'd had enough. After a moment, she pulled back with a smile. "I'm sorry. I really need to get ready."

Stan looked into her eyes a moment, studying them. They were still the rich blue he had thought were contacts, but he could see now that it was a natural colour. He memorized it, then turned and left.

~~~~~~~~

As Stan walked through his front door he got a phone call. He flipped open his cell phone. "Hello," he said gruffly as he fell to the couch.

"Detective Kowalski?"

"Yeah."

"This is Agent Moore. I'm sure your Lieutenant mentioned me."

"The FBI guy?"

There was a pause. "Yes. We have to meet with you this evening." Moore left him with the name of a restaurant, then hung up.

When Stan arrived at the restaurant he saw two men in long dark coats. He sauntered over and sat with them. "Not too secret, are you?"

The one who was taller had dark hair. He held out his hand. "I'm Moore. This is Canell. It isn't necessary for us to be secretive." He paused. "We just learned that one of the gems stolen from the jewel heist last night turned up. It turned up on the dead body of a man you arrested just six days ago."

Stan looked confused. "So?"

"We think maybe you can tell us something," Canell said firmly.

"You first," Stan replied coolly.

"Excuse me?" Moore looked angry.

"A name." Stan smiled a little and leaned back in his seat.

"Oh," Moore said. "His name was Jules Markos."

Stan thought for a minute. "Uh, that guy? He was into everything."

"Can you tell us how he might pertain to this case?"

"Yeah," Stan replied. "He sold a whole lotta stuff, but he was a go between. He was mob, through and through. Whoever's doin' these robberies has mob connections."

"Are you certain?"

"Yeah, I'm sure. If someone whacked Markos, it's because they're connected." Stan paused a moment, then sat up. "Unless they're selling to the mob. Jules would be a connection if someone in the mob was the buyer."

Moore nodded, a grin trying to surface under his hardened face. "Thanks, Detective," he said softly.

"I don't get it. Why'd you bring me out here for that? You coulda got the arrests from his files."

Moore nodded. "We had to meet you. Make sure you're our guy."

Stan looked questioningly.

Canell took a deep breath. "Welsh told you we've been following these two for a long time, right? That makes us look bad."

Stan nodded. "So you're just checking me out? Make sure I'll help instead of hinder, eh?"

Moore nodded. "You did give us valuable information, however. It is difficult to know who is involved in the mob in the outer branches."

Stan stared at them a moment. "You already guessed they were mobbed up, didn'tcha?" He asked, realizing they seemed confident that they had received the right answer.

Canell reached into his jacket and pulled out a file. He opened it and set a page before Stan.

Stan looked at the picture on the page. He couldn't make out the figure in the picture, a screen image obviously taken from a security camera. Stan examined it for several minutes before picking up the image of the gun. The assailant held a somewhat rare gun, hard to get hold of and modified. He could see that it was a .45 Glock. The light reflected in a way that made it appear as though it had been ported to reduce recoil. He looked up at Canell who spoke softly. "It's what you think. We looked through several hours of video and it appears to be modified. That gun is pretty hard to get unless you have mob connections." He took a deep breath. "The Glock has a pretty severe recoil. Looks like they put those holes there to cut that down."

"Bet the gun's untraceable, huh?" Stan asked.

Moore nodded. "Know anyone who could get their hands on that kind of weapon?"

Stan thought a moment. He went through the files in his head, but couldn't think of anyone who could come up with that type of gun. "Haven't you checked the records?"

"Of course," Moore replied casually, "but every lead turns a dead end." He took a deep breath, then leaned in. "If you have any... connections... it would be a good idea to ask around."

Stan knew what he meant. Informants. Illegal, perhaps, but helpful. He smiled vaguely. He wasn't even sure his informants could be helpful. There wasn't a solid enough lead. "Is that my assignment, then?" he asked with a smirk. "The best you can do? Need coffee and donuts?"

Moore frowned. "If you aren't serious about this, Detective..."

Stan shrugged. "I am," he said quickly. "I'll let you know what I find." He waited a moment to see if they had more to say, but he was met with blank stares. "Yeah, well, I guess you guys have my number if you need anything else."

Moore nodded.

Stan left without another word.

At home he laid in bed and stared at the ceiling. He rolled over and stared at nothing in particular, but imagined Aurora beside him. He wanted to wrap his arm around her and tell her about the stupid Feds and their stupid test, but he knew even if she were there he couldn't tell her.

~~~~~~~~

The next day Stan spent trying to get information, but no one knew anything. Whoever was doing the jobs was not connected to his sources, that part was definite.

He called Aurora's phone periodically throughout the day, but there was never an answer. Her soft voice never interrupted the ringing. She also never called him. It was late when he finally tried to call Fraser, but all he got was a machine. Frustrated, he went to bed.

It was two days before the call that came in on his cell phone was one he wanted. By then he wasn't even certain he wanted it anymore.

"Stan? I'm very sorry. Something came up." She paused. "Business. I had to go out of town. I just got back."

Stan sat in his car. He was about to leave from work when the phone rang. "Ok." He replied softly, relenting to her words, but apathetic to their meaning.

She was quiet a moment. "You're mad. I'm sorry. I wish I could explain."

"Why not? Why can't you?" he asked angrily, trying to make her feel the hurt.

"I can't, ok? Look, why don't you come over and we'll talk about it." She could hear that she had to calm him, placate him. She couldn't simply let him go. She needed him in too many ways.

Stan wasn't sure how he felt about that. Most of him wanted to be with her, but part of his head had too much pride. "I'm busy."

She didn't speak for several seconds. "Stan, I need you." Her voice was quiet and he became concerned.

'Need?' He liked that she needed him, but he also hated that he wanted to go. "I have a lot of work to do tonight."

When her voice drifted into his ear again, it was different. While he hadn't known her long, he did know this wasn't usual for her. He felt an anger, but no longer his own. It was quiet, but the anger was there. "Please, Stan. It's important to me."

He let out a breath and finally gave in. "All right," he said softly. "I'll come over, but just for a few minutes."

She breathed a sigh if relief. "All right," she said. "It's ok as long as you come."

~~~~~~~

Just the sight of her stopped his brain from functioning properly. Here he was on her doorstep staring at her once again. He couldn't help himself.

"Thanks for coming." She spoke gently, her eyes sparkling at the sight of him. She stepped aside and let him in.

He walked past her coolly. "Yeah." As he sat on the couch, he looked back at her. She looked beautiful in a short satin dress with a sheer cover that draped to the floor behind her. It was black and blue, as he figured most of her wardrobe must be.

"I could make dinner," she said. "That way we could stay in and talk."

He agreed and followed her to the kitchen. He watched her prepare the food, her hands graceful and her style neat.

"I'm not the best cook," she said as she slipped the pan in the oven. "Mostly I eat salad because it's easy." Just one corner of her mouth curled into a smile. He stared at her and memorized the shape her mouth took when she did it.

"I'm not picky," he said. "All I need's food."

"Wine?" she offered as she pulled a bottle from under the counter and set it before him.

He shook his head. "Maybe later."

She nodded, put it in the fridge and took him back to the couch in the living room. "It doesn't take very long to cook," she said softly as he put her hand on his neck. "You are a rock," she said with a smile as she began to massage it.

Stan let his head drop forward. He hadn't realized the tension building until her touch began to lift it away. She ran her fingers through his hair and massaged his scalp gently. Just as he began to feel he never wanted it to end, there was a buzz.

Aurora stood and went to the kitchen. Stan went to the table. When she set the food before him, his mind flashed back. He smelled the cooked tomatoes and thought of the night Stella had burned a lasagna. He grinned at the food.

"Something funny about my cooking?" Aurora asked as she sat and spread a napkin over her lap.

Stan shook his head. "It's just that, once, Stella, my ex-wife..."

She interrupted him. "Stella?" She paused a moment. "Did you fall off of a streetcar? Maybe one named Desire?"

Stan chuckled and shook his head. "No. Dad liked Brando. I'm a Steve McQueen guy. Stella, well, she was just beautiful." He paused. "What I meant was..."

She put up her hand to stop him. "It's ok." Aurora smiled again and sipped her water. "You were married? Interesting."

Stan nodded. "Yeah. We were childhood sweethearts." He looked down at his food. "I guess adulthood didn't work for us." He looked back at Aurora who was just looking at him.

She was trying to determine the exact meaning of the statement. She suspected she understood, but said nothing. "I'm sorry. Have you been divorced long?"

Stan thought a moment. "A couple years, yeah." He took a bite.

"What have you been doing with yourself since then?"

Stan shrugged. "Not much changed. I made new friends. Got back from the Yukon Territories a few weeks ago."

She furrowed her brow. "Do you mean the Yukon or the Northwest Territory?"

Stan shrugged. "You sound like Fraze. They're all the same. Know what it's like to be stuck out in the middle of an ice field freezin' yer ass off with a guy who thinks he's in heaven?"

Aurora laughed. He saw that light in her eyes again and reached over to touch her. She put her hand on his. "Sounds like you've been on a roller coaster," she said softly.

Stan nodded and leaned toward her. She followed his lead and leaned toward him for a kiss. She sat back and moved her hand from his. "Let me go in the kitchen and pour us some more wine," she said as she cleaned up the plates and drifted into the kitchen. She came out with two glasses and set one in front of Stan.

They looked at each other quietly, then she smiled. "Is there anything we haven't talked about tonight," she said with half a laugh.

Stan shrugged. "Work. We haven't talked about our jobs at all. What kind of investing do you do?" He sipped his wine while she stared at hers.

"I don't want to talk about work." She paused. "Work and pleasure don't mix."

Stan furrowed his brow. "Ok."

They looked at each other in silence a moment longer, then she stood and took his hand. "Would you like to finish that before we go upstairs?" she said as she pointed to his wine.

He smiled, then drank it and followed her to the bedroom.

~~~~~~~

Aurora hugged her knees and looked at Stan. 'He has no idea what he's getting into,' she thought as his deep breathing relaxed her. 'He's so vulnerable.' She kissed him on the lips, certain he wouldn't even stir. 'I can't believe I'm letting myself get so involved with this one.' She took a breath, then slipped out of the room.

~~~~~~

"Sean, don't I always have it under control? Now if you want a cut, shut up," Aurora's voice was tough as she drove the small sports car. "Look, you got greedy last time. If I have to wait for you again, I'll leave you with the cops."

"I'll tell them. I'll tell them everything."

She pointed a gun at him. "That's not what I mean. I'll leave you with the security guards. You know what happens if I even think you are going to speak."

The small man nodded. He remembered Jules had made the same threat of revealing his source for the jewels and art that he supplied. He was there when Aurora warned him not to even think about squealing on her. "I won't say anything. I didn't mean it."

She nodded. "Now, I'm going in here alone this time. You are my watch on this one. I want that necklace."

She skidded to a stop one block from the backside of the museum and slipped the black knit cap over her face. She stepped out, as did Sean. They separated.

She whispered softly into her wrist. "Eyes open?" A moment later, the reply came.

"Go."

She was on the roof in seconds. She slipped through the access panel and up into a heating vent. It didn't take very long before she was moving the ceiling tile that revealed her newest treasure. She sprinkled baby powder into the room, then lowered herself between the beams of light. She stood before an ornate necklace that was over 350 years old. The dark shimmer of the emerald with the hint of blue reflected in her eyes. A more rare version of the gem and far more beautiful. The cut was perfection. The gold glimmered in the dim light.

She carefully removed a heavy object from the bag she carried and held it above the glass. She knew time would really begin to count. "How many've I got?" she whispered into her wrist.

"Two here. There are four others spread throughout the building and the cops will be around for their patrol in 5 seconds."

"Tell me when they pass," she said and stood frozen in her spot.

Several seconds later, she heard the confirmation. "They are gone."

She counted to the optimal moment, then broke the glass. The alarms squealed as she grabbed the necklace and neighbouring jewelry, dropped it into the backpack, then snatched two more handfuls and dropped them in without looking to see what she had.

She knew the security guards were on their way. She stood against the one wall with no doors and waited. Her gun was at the ready as she spoke into her wrist. "I'm done," she said. Then she stood, both hands securing the gun, waiting. No one came. "Dammit," she swallowed and ran full speed to the hall.

The security guards came from two of the hallways. She shot twice, ducked back, and watched two guards go down. She leaned out and shot down the other hall. Four guards down and only a minute before the cops would be able to get back to the building.

She ran toward the entrance wondering where the other two guards were. She only had seconds before the cops would be close enough to get a look at them leaving in their car. She swore again as she came around the corner and saw the two guards waiting at the door. Two shots and they went down like all the others.

Moments later, she broke through the glass doors and was gone in the night. She hid in shadows as she made her way to the pick up point. Sean pulled up at the right moment as planned and they drove off.

~~~~~~~

"Any survivors?" Moore asked the officer in charge of the crime scene.

He shook his head. "No. One shot to the head each. Want to see the tape?"

Moore frowned. "It's them. One of them could shoot the head off a pin at a thousand yards." He shook his head. "My team will look at it, but they won't see anything new. They know they're strengths and they stick to them. We have enough tapes to fill a warehouse, but we still haven't put together a weakness."

Canell reached out and took Moore's arm. "Same as usual. No prints, no hair, nothing is left."

Moore nodded. "I know. Call Kowalski. That Jules is our best lead so I want Kowalski to be the one to help us out here."

Canell nodded and reached for his phone.

~~~~~~

Aurora walked back into the bedroom and went to the closet. She took off her clothes and climbed back in bed. A phone started to ring and she knew it wasn't hers. She took Stan's arm and put it over her, then poked him. He didn't wake up and she cleared her throat. 'Oh god. A heavy one.' She pushed him and prodded him more until he finally opened his bloodshot eyes. The phone had stopped ringing, but she looked into his eyes. "Your phone."

He looked confused. "Huh?"

"Your cell phone was ringing. I didn't think anyone would be calling this late if it wasn't important."

He still looked confused, but he found his phone and stared at it. "It's not ringing."

She laughed. "No, it was. Maybe there's a message."

He looked at her. "I don't have messages," he said. At that moment, it started ringing again. He answered it in a gruff voice. "H'lo?"

The yelling at the other end made Aurora smile, but it made Stan want to explode. "Where the hell are you?! The Feds called me and got me out of bed and told me you haven't been answering your phone! What is wrong with you?"

Stan sat quiet a moment. "I'm sorry, sir, I didn't hear it ringing."

"Well, they've handled it now, but they want to see you first thing in the morning. Don't be late."

Stan hung up and looked at Aurora. "What was that all about? Sounds like someone was yelling at you."

"My boss." He rolled over and was asleep before she could inquire more.

~~~~~~

Stan woke up late again and cursed. Aurora rolled over at the sound. "Good morning to you, too."

"I'm late. I think I'm screwed," he said. "What kind of mattress is this anyway?" He spoke as he dressed.

She smiled and shrugged. "I have to do a lot of work today. I might not be available. I'll call you tomorrow, ok?"

Stan looked deflated. "Are you gonna brush me off until you want sex again?"

She frowned. "I didn't mean it to be this way, Stan. I want us to get together again. Soon. I want to know you."

Stan took a deep breath. "I'm going. Call me if you want. I don't care."

She took the sheet with her as she jumped out of bed and grabbed Stan in her arms. "I know I hardly know you, but I love you," she said. "Trust me."

Stan leaned down for a quick kiss, but she held him to her for a longer, deeper one. He smiled a little, despite himself. "Ok, I care. You better call."

~~~~~~

"Do you want this job?!" Welsh's voice bellowed through his office and into the bull pen. "I swear if I look a fool in front of the Feds one more time because of you I'll have your badge and gun. Permanently!"

"I'm sorry, Lieu. It won't happen again." Stan knew he was in deep, but he couldn't see a way out. The best he could do was swear he wouldn't let it happen again, make the vow to be more careful.

Welsh was red. "I can't even believe what you say, Detective. You made me that exact promise a few days ago and here you are. What the hell do I tell the Feds and my boss? My butt's in a sling because I thought I could trust you."

"'ey, I'm the last one to make excuses, but..."

"And I'm the last person to hear them!" Welsh was fuming. "Get the hell out!"

Stan obeyed. It wasn't the time to argue with the man. He simply went to his desk.

Stan was understandably sour the rest of the day, but he went about his usual work. He had some paperwork piling up and as soon as he was finished, he hit the pavement on his cases.

That night he sat on his couch and picked up the phone. His usual phone call to Fraser. He almost dreaded it. He couldn't share his most important case and he couldn't tell Fraser of all people that he was late to work because of a woman.

"Hey, Fraze," Stan said cheerily.

"Hi, Stan. You sound well." Fraser was slightly surprised to hear happiness in the voice at the other end. Stan had been apathetic in every phone call.

"Oh, things're good, buddy. I tried to call the other night, but you weren't there."

"Yes," he replied. "I was on the trail of a criminal. I only recently returned."

"Oh, well, good thing I waited to call, then, eh?"

"Yes, it would seem so." Fraser took a breath. "So what have you been doing, Stan?"

"Ah, you know. Workin' and stuff."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. Not a whole lot I can even talk about."

"Hmm," Fraser said, a bit distracted by paperwork.

Stan sat up straight. 'Oh no. Not the hmmm.' "What 'hmmm', Fraser?"

"I'm sure it's nothing," Fraser replied.

Stan shook his head and rested it on his palm. "It never means nothing with you, Fraze."

Fraser made a mark on the paper in front of him. "It is simply suspicious, this request I've received."

Stan sat back. "Oh. You're talking about work."

"Yes," Fraser replied simply. He closed the folder and leaned back in his wooden seat. As his mind replayed the last conversation he'd had with Stan, he decided he was curious as to the change in attitude. "Did you find something to do after our last conversation Stan?"

Stan smiled. "Oh yeah. I met a woman."

"A woman?" Fraser took a deep breath. Was it always about women with him? The moment he stopped thinking about Stella, it was another woman. There never seemed to be an end. He recalled their quest and how many conversations had started with "There was this woman."

"She's great, Fraser. It's like I know her. Like I've known her forever."

Fraser cringed at the words. "Stan, I..."

"I think I love her."

"In one week?" Fraser was surprised and a bit concerned. Only one woman he knew jumped to mind, as much as he never wanted to think about her again. "Be careful, Stan."

"What does that mean, Fraze? Be careful?"

"It doesn't mean anything, Stan," Fraser said more softly. "How is the Lieutenant?" He quickly changed the subject.

After a while, they had exhausted the usual subjects. Stan promised to call in a few days and hung up. He leaned back against the arm of the couch and closed his eyes. Slowly he replayed images of Aurora in his mind until he fell asleep.

~~~~~~~

Stan was in a meeting with Moore and Canell when his phone started to ring. They gave him a stern look that told him not to answer it. He smiled and ignored it, but throughout the rest of the conversation, he thought about Aurora. 'What if it was her and she thinks I'm not answering because I don't want to see her?'

"Detective? Are you listening?"

Stan straightened. "Yeah. What?"

Moore looked angered. "I was briefing you on the last theft. We had an item appear in France about an hour ago. We have a picture of what our suspect is doing, but we still have no leads."

"Oh," Stan said, still distracted, but trying to pay attention.

Canell stood. "That's it, Detective," he spoke down to Stan. "I am going to have Welsh put someone else from this division on this case. You are not as competent as we anticipated."

Stan shook his head. "Hey, I'm a good cop. Look, this pair is gonna steal from a couple more places, then move on, right? Isn't that the pattern?"

Moore grunted. "Actually, it may not be true this time. This city has a lot more to offer than the smaller places they've been. It just might be that they are planning to stay."

"What makes you think that?" Stan asked immediately.

"They are precise and planned, but they have deviated. This is our concern. They become more dangerous when they deviate, but they also become easier to catch. We have to be on the top of our game now or we will miss a vital clue."

Stan nodded. "Ok, but they still aren't leaving clues or live bodies, are they?" His comment was sarcastic.

"That may be true, but it only takes one mistake to catch them. We must watch carefully." Canell sat as he spoke.

Moore took a deep breath. "I've had your lieutenant remove you from day shifts. You are now on nights. Our men will be patrolling the streets as we have been in hopes of being near a crime scene as it happens. You will be on call. Sleep during the days because nights will be long. No more sleeping through phone calls, is that clear?"

Stan nodded. "It won't happen again. I can't explain what happened last time."

"Well, you will be awake. It's your last chance, Detective."

Stan grumbled, but agreed.

Moore opened a folder. "Did you find any more information on Markos?" he asked as he looked over the papers inside.

Stan shrugged. "I didn't know I was supposed to look. I have a lot of cases on my desk that..."

Moore stopped him. "Ok. Well, if something comes up, you'll let us know?"

Stan nodded.

"You've been good for us so far, Kowalski," he said in a slightly more personal tone. "If we can just get you on the top of your game, well, there might be something in it for you."

Stan shifted. "Oh?"

Moore said nothing else on the matter. "You are excused."

~~~~~

Aurora stood near the diamonds and held her arm around Sean. Her hair was pulled up into a hat and her makeup was heavy. "Yes, I do like that one, but can my fianc and I have a moment to discuss it?"

The salesman nodded. "Certainly. I understand," he smiled. "We have several payment options so don't let the cost deter you. After all, you only want the best for her, don't you?"

Sean nodded. "Yes, I do."

The salesman nodded again and walked away.

She smiled as she looked at Sean and spoke. "Over by the blonde saleswoman is a collection of black opals from Australia on display." Her voice was barely audible. "Those are the ones I want."

Sean pointed at a diamond ring. "Are you sure?"

She shook her head as if saying no to his choice in rings. "This one's easy. It's a small shop. We can do this one easily." She touched the brim of her hat to carefully hide her face as she turned to survey the camera positions again, double checking to make sure she hadn't missed any when they first entered the shop.

"You got the plans yet?" Sean said as he caught a glimpse of salesman preparing to return.

The salesman approached and leaned forward. "Have you made a decision?"

Aurora took a long breath. "I just don't see anything that is perfect. Thank you for your time," she said and led Sean out.

As they reached her jeep, Sean stopped and stared at her. "Well?"

"Yes, I've got it all. I was scoping this place out for their sapphires, but I can't resist those opals."

"All right. So when?"

"Thursday night. That gives us two days," she put the jeep in gear as he climbed in, then she drove off.

"Why are we still here, anyway?" Sean said.

"Don't start this again, Sean."

"We've been here too long. They'll be on to us soon."

"Look, this place has a better supply of merchandise, ok? I'm not ready to leave yet."

Sean frowned, but didn't say another word. As soon as she dropped him off, she went home and made a phone call.

Aurora was surprised that Stan wasn't answering his phone, but she decided to call again later. When she did, she was pleased to hear his voice answer.

"You didn't answer before," she said in a saddened voice.

"I know. I was...in a meeting," he said, knowing he couldn't tell her about the case or the Feds would ruin his career.

"Work. I see. Well, let's not talk about work. Where are you?"

"On my way home," he replied simply.

"Well, I'd love to see you tonight," she said. "Perhaps we can go out this evening."

Stan agreed. He went to his car and removed his gun, leaving it in the trunk. He secured it this way every time he went to her place, knowing, like most women, she wouldn't appreciate the firearm in her home. He drove to her place, excited to see her again and letting the feeling sink in.

She looked beautiful when he arrived to pick her up. He took her to one of his favourite spots for a romantic dinner. It was a beautiful restaurant decorated with old world Italian accessories. The lighting was dim and their table overlooked the lake.

Stan loved the way the light sparkled off the water and her eyes. He was simply mesmerized by the sound of her voice. He couldn't even remember how they got on the subject or what she said most of the evening. Instead he was paying more attention to her voice, her eyes, her smile.

"I don't believe in a lot of things," she was saying as she sipped her water, "but I do believe in me. I think one should go with their strengths. Personally, I find my strengths. Weaknesses be damned. As long as you don't rely on a weakness, you will always win." She saw him staring, but not paying attention. "Don't you agree?"

Stan blinked. "Hmm? Agree with what?"

"I didn't think you were listening," she said with a smile. "It's all right. I was just filling the silence anyway."

He smiled back at her and finished his glass of wine. He rejected the offer of more from their prompt waiter. "Do you dance?" he said softly.

She curled up one corner of her mouth. "What was I doing the night we met?"

Stan chuckled slightly. "No, I mean this," he said as he motioned toward the string quartet and the couples dancing nearby.

"Some," she replied. "I've never had much chance to practice."

He stood and held out his hand for her. She put her hand gently into his and followed him. Stan put an arm around her and folded his fingers around her other hand. Her high heels brought her nearly to his height, he observed as they stood close to each other and began to dance. They moved in a fluid motion around the floor. He was surprised how comfortable it felt.

'Last time I danced like this, it was with...' "Stella," he said softly.

Aurora looked into his eyes, questioning. "Stella?"

"Hmm?" Stan said. The realization hit him and he wanted to smack himself. He was going to ruin a perfect thing simply because he had made Stella such a large part of his life. "Stella and I used to go dancing," he remarked.

She looked down into his chest and stepped in, holding him more closely, her head resting on his shoulder. Stan reacted by wrapping around her more firmly. They floated along the floor without another word. Soon the song ended and he loosened his grip.

She looked up and touched his face. "One more," she said in a gentle tone.

He nodded and held her again. They waited for another song to begin, then began the motion, moving as one. She put her face against his, cheek to cheek. Stan closed his eyes.

~~~~~~

"I wish we could spend every minute together," she said softly as she curled against him on the couch in her condo.

"So do I," he replied as he leaned over and kissed her ear, wrapping his arms around her more snuggly. "It feels perfect to have you in my arms."

She closed her eyes. "If only it could last forever."

In a soft breathy voice, Stan spoke. "Why can't it?"

She took a deep breath. "I may have to leave," she said softly. She hated to bring it up when she was feeling so comfortable, but she had to know. She had to know how Stan would react to it before it was too late.

He pushed her away so he could look into her eyes. "What d'ya mean?"

"I may have to leave for a very long time."

Stan looked upset. "What're you saying? Permanently maybe?"

She shook her head. "I hope not. Look, Stan, I...I don't want to go, but I have to."

"Will you ever come back? Tell me the truth."

"I don't know, Stan. I want to stay for you. If anything can bring me back, it will be my love for you."

"I don't understand. I don't... understand. What exactly is going on?"

"Look, Stan, I can't get into it. I just know I can't stay here much longer."

Stan leaned back on the couch and closed his eyes. "Why? Why me?"

She leaned over him and kissed his neck. "I'm sorry, Stan."

He pushed her away. "I can't do this. I can't stay here knowing that you may be gone tomorrow."

She grabbed his hand and held it tightly. "I won't be gone tomorrow. Please, let's be together."

"Until you leave? I can't do that." He stood and put on his jacket.

She jumped to her feet and stopped him. "Stan, no. Please. I can't be without you." She stopped herself, surprised that those were the words she spat out. She looked up into his eyes and pleaded. "I need you." She swallowed. "I love you. Maybe you could come with me." She stopped herself again, then kissed him.

He pulled back. "I don't think I can."

"Why not? Come on. You told me you spent some time up in Canada, wouldn't you like to travel?"

Stan smiled at the thought and shook his head again. "No, I hated it. I like Chicago. This is my home." He shifted. "Why don't you stay? Quit your job and stay here with me."

"I can't do that. My work is important to me. I need... I wouldn't feel complete if I..."

Stan shook his head. "Don't bother. I know how the routine goes. Your career is important to you. That's ok. I can't live with that. Not again. I have to leave before... before it's too late."

"It isn't a career," she said softly. "I mean, that isn't it. It's... it's something else."

Stan couldn't move. He couldn't make a sacrifice that would make them both happy. "It can't work, then." His voice cracked. He felt a little scared and hurt at the prospect of losing another love.

She shook her head, then took his arm. She wouldn't win this fight, she could see that now. If she wanted him, she would have to let him think she could stay. "All right. If it's the only way we can be together, I'll do it." She smiled, but her heart sank. She knew it was a lie.

Confused, Stan shifted. "I don't understand. A moment ago..."

"If it means losing you I have no choice." She wanted it to be true. She tried to convince herself that it could be true, but she only succeeded in convincing him.

At that, he leaned forward and kissed her. The two worked together to take off his jacket as they kissed. Without hesitation, they made their way to the bedroom. As he moved in beside her, he touched her hair and leaned over her to kiss her again. They both began to feel warm as he wrapped himself around her, deepening the kiss as much as possible. He reached beneath her blouse and used his fingertips to learn the sensations brought by every inch of her.

~~~~~~~~

Aurora watched Stan sleep once again. He was so peaceful in his sleep. She nudged him, but he didn't notice. She leaned into his ear and spoke his name, but all he did was roll over. 'Very heavy sleeper,' she thought. 'Perhaps the drugging isn't even necessary.' She took a breath and rested her head on his chest. "I didn't want to. Not with you." She spoke very softly. "Things are so different with you." She took a deep breath and closed her eyes.

~~~~~~~~

Stan woke the next morning with a start. He looked at the time. For once he actually made it up early enough to get to work on time. He looked at Aurora and kissed her awake. "Good morning," he said sweetly.

She smiled in return. "Good morning. You up in time for work?"

He nodded, then remembered. "But I don't have to go," he smiled.

She looked confused. "Day off?"

"Nope, days off. I'm going on night shifts," he replied.

She looked concerned and surprised. "Uh, you are? Why?"

"I...I can't say, actually," he replied.

She nodded. "But I look forward to nights with you," she smiled to hide the fact that this was going to ruin her plans.

"Well, we'll still have some time together."

She nodded and bit her lip. 'Ok,' she thought. 'I can work through this. All we need to do is make some changes to our plans and he can still be my alibi.' "Well, I guess I'll just have to keep you here when I can," she said with another smile then leaned into him for a kiss.

He returned the kiss gladly. He hadn't been sure how he would deal with the change to the new schedule, but spending the morning in bed with the woman he loved didn't seem like a bad way to start off.

~~~~~~

Fraser took off his gloves as he sat at the front desk and looked at the phone. Something about his last conversation with Stan was still bothering him. He picked up and dialed Stan's apartment, but there was no answer. He waited and called his cellular telephone. After it rang with no answer, he tried again, knowing Stan never went anywhere without his phone.

~~~~~~~

Stan and Aurora were laying on the couch, embracing each other and kissing passionately. Stan's phone began to ring, but the two ignored it. He wrapped one arm around her and supported her back as he caressed her lips with his tongue. The ringing phone finally got on Aurora's nerves. "Are you going to answer it?" She asked breathlessly.

Stan grunted and reached for his coat, feeling around for the phone as they continued to kiss. The ringing stopped just as he got it out, so he dropped it as he put his free hand behind her head. He closed his teeth around her lower lip and she shivered.

A moment later, the phone began to ring again. She sighed and he grunted as he flipped it open. "What?!" he snapped.

"Stan?" Fraser's voice came through. "I was calling because..."

"Fraze, this is really not a good time," Stan replied and hung up. He hit the button to turn it off and dropped it on the floor, then looked in Aurora's eyes. He smiled at her only a moment before holding her more closely and nibbling her earlobe.

~~~~~~

Fraser called back, but got no answer again. With more than a little frustration, he hung up the phone. After a moment, he took a deep breath, ran his thumbnail along his brow, then picked up the phone.

"Lieutenant Welsh? This is Constable Fraser."

"Constable?" Welsh was floored to hear the voice.

"Yes. Constable Fraser."

"I know, Fraser. I'm just surprised to hear from you. Is something wrong?"

"I don't know," Fraser replied softly. "May I ask you a question about Stan?"

Welsh sighed. "Of course."

"Does his behaviour seem odd to you in any way?"

"Stan is always odd, Fraser," Welsh replied, then took a breath. "Yes. Yes he is. He's late for work, he doesn't answer his phone half the time. I would definitely say something is up."

"Do you have any idea what is causing..."

Welsh cut him off. "No, I don't Constable. I guess he's just getting used to things here again. They're different. I think he just needs time."

"Yes, but sir, he's been back there for..."

"It's all right Constable. If I feel he's having serious trouble, I'll talk to him. Don't worry." Welsh paused. "If that's all, I have a lot of work to do."

Fraser rubbed his forehead. "Yes, sir," he replied and hung up.

~~~~~~~

The moon was bright in the sky as Aurora and Stan stood by the window. She gave him a kiss on the cheek, then stepped away. "I feel like a glass of wine. Would you like one?" she asked gently.

He turned and shook his head. While she was in the kitchen, he went back to where he had dropped his phone and picked it up. He would just have to call Fraser later. Turning it on so that he wouldn't miss any more calls, he slipped it in the pocket of his jeans. He began to feel cold so he slipped his shirt over his head.

Aurora came into the room with two glasses of wine. She handed one to him. "Are you sure you don't want one?"

He smiled and took the glass. "I've still got a couple hours before I have to go to work," he said. "What do you say? Want to make the most of it?"

She smiled and took his hand. The two went up to the bedroom. He set his wine on the nightstand and Aurora set hers on her dresser. She looked at his untouched glass. "Are you sure you don't want that?"

"I told you, I have to go to work soon. I don't want to drink before I go."

She took a deep breath and stretched out across the bed. She reached for his glass, opened her robe, and poured it on herself. "Still don't want it?"

Stan shook his head with a grin. He watched the smooth liquid roll along her soft, pale skin and of onto the bed. The dim light and her gentle breathing caused a beautiful glistening on her skin. "How can I resist an offer like that?" In a fluid motion, he slid next to her, taking a moment to get lost in her eyes. A moment later he leaned in and began to enjoy the wine in it's much sweeter setting.

With one hand, he reached out and grasped her hand firmly, allowing himself to get lost in her precious flesh.

~~~~~~~~

Stan woke with a start as he heard the phone ringing. His head was spinning and he felt sick. He looked at the bed and saw that he was alone. After a moment, he reached over and picked up the phone.

"Detective! This is Agent Moore. You are supposed to be at work!" his voice boomed instantly. "How long were you going to let it ring?"

Stan began to look around the room for Aurora. "It didn't ring that long, did it?" he said as he stopped moving and held his dizzy head.

"This is the third call, Detective. We need to speak with you. Since you are not at the station where you are supposed to be, you will have to come to us. Meet us on the corner of Madison and Terrace in ten minutes. Got it?"

"Yes," Stan said and hung up.

He dressed quickly and looked around the entire condo. Aurora was nowhere to be found. He couldn't wait so he grabbed his jacket and put it on as he left the apartment.

~~~~~~

Stan saw the black car on the corner with the two agents inside. They saw him pull up and Moore jumped out. "That's it. Tomorrow things are going to change. I'm pulling you off this case."

Stan looked annoyed, but didn't say a word to respond. Instead he asked about the meeting. "What did you want to talk to me about?"

"Well, we planned to brief you on the situation, but now I've called you down here to tell you that if I have my way, you'll lose your badge!" Moore fumed, his face reddening.

Canell leaned out the window. "Moore. We got one in progress. Down the street!"

Moore jumped in his car and Stan followed in his.

They pulled up to a jewelry store and jumped out, guns at the ready. Through the window they could see the commotion. They broke the glass and ran inside just as the security guard went down in front of them. Stan went to one side while Moore went to the other. Stan dropped behind a counter and heard a gunshot. He peered over the edge in time to see Moore go down. Another shot and Canell went down. Stan watched as the shooter headed toward the door. For a moment he thought the assailant had missed him and prepared to make his move.

He looked up again and saw the gun was pointed at him. He rolled across the floor and cocked his gun, then aimed it at the shooter. "Freeze," he yelled, knowing these were sure to be his last moments. He stared at the fierce .45 and waited for someone to make a move.

The shooter froze, Stan was shocked and took a step forward, only to hear another gunshot. He fell to the ground before he even felt the pain in his hip. In the fall, he dropped his gun. In one stroke, the shooter turned and shot the partner. As Stan reached for his gun, there was another shot and his arm was immobile. He looked up. Why hadn't this person shot him in the head yet? Why was he still alive?

He watched as the person dressed all in black gracefully shot out every camera aimed at the scene. Stan hadn't been told about this move. It was a new one. The shooter stepped close to him and just as he was about to reach out with his good arm and grab the leg near him, the shooter pulled off her cap and squatted beside him. He looked at her, frozen in position as she spoke softly. "You're a cop?"

Stan choked as his mouth made the word 'Aurora', but no sound escaped. He could only watch her as she straightened and ran.

The alarms were deafening as he tried to stay awake. Disoriented, he listened to the sirens nearing the scene and lost consciousness.

~~~~~~

Stan felt like he was floating as the sounds around him became less muddled. He slowly opened his eyes and turned his head. Surprised by the first thing his eyes focused on, he moved then winced as the pain in his hip and arm bit down on him. He closed his eyes, but he could still see the Stetson in the hands before him. He opened them again and looked at the owner of the hands.

"Fraze?" he rasped.

"Don't talk," Fraser replied as he turned the Stetson in his hands.

Stan took in the sight of his good friend. He wore jeans and a blue plaid shirt, but the Stetson was a staple. He smiled. "I'm glad you came," he said in a whisper.

Fraser tugged his ear. "Of course I'm here," he said softly and tilted his head. "I left yesterday." He paused. "I was concerned. I only wish I had arrived before this happened."

Stan looked away, then turned his head back. "You couldn't have changed things," he replied. There was silence a moment as Stan tried to shift and take a deep breath, but he couldn't support himself with the one arm and his leg wouldn't move. It was too painful and he ended up in the same place he started.

Fraser put out his hand. "I don't think it's a good idea to try moving yet." The two sat in silence for a few moments. "What happened?"

Stan took in the question and slowly everything returned. He started back at the condo when he couldn't find Aurora, he remembered ducking behind the counter and looking down the barrel of the gun. *Her* gun. He saw the mask coming off in front of him and connected it with everything that had happened since he met her. He felt stupid, but more than that, he was confused.

"I don't remember," he rasped softly and looked away.

Fraser let out a breath. "All right. I'll give you some time to think about it."

Stan furrowed his brow. "Think about it? Are you grillin' me?"

Fraser shook his head. "No. My only intent... We wondered why..." He cleared his throat, unable to say what he meant. "Welsh filled me in on most of the case. We are both very concerned. Whoever is committing these crimes let you live. It is uncommon..."

"I know, Fraze," Stan interrupted softly. "I'm just edgy."

"Understood," Fraser replied. He looked at his friend. "You mentioned a woman last time we talked," he proceeded carefully. "No one seemed to know her. Would you like me to call her? I'm sure she'll be concerned."

Stan looked away. "No." He paused. "No, I don't think we're seein' each other any more."

"Oh," Fraser replied softly and leaned back in the seat. He didn't speak for a few minutes. "We have two officer's guarding your room in case someone..."

"Not that it'll make a difference," Stan rasped, annoyed at the return to the subject. "If she wants to kill me, that won't stop 'er."

Fraser cocked his head. "She?"

Stan looked at the ceiling. "The Feds thought it might be a woman."

Fraser sat forward again. "Stan, if you know something, if you saw...something, you should tell us before it is too late to catch this criminal."

Stan shook his head. "I just watched 'er move and it looked like a woman, that's all." He turned back to Fraser. "Plus they saw the gun was ported. Means someone was tryin' to stop recoil. A big gun like that'd knock a woman over." He paused. "I'm tired," he said and closed his eyes without discussion.

The darkness gave him no peace, however. He was bombarded with thoughts and emotions. He feared Aurora may come back to kill him. Her plan obviously counted on not leaving any witnesses. He knew who she was and where she lived, but the questions in his mind remained. Should he turn her in? Why was she doing this? How could the person he loved so much be a cold blooded killer by night? None of it made sense in his mind.

~~~~~~~

"Come on, Warren. The clock is ticking." Aurora looked at her watch again and tapped her foot.

It had taken her a few hours to decide what she was going to do, but once she had thought it out she knew time was of the essence. She hoped ideally to make it to the hospital before Stan ever woke up, but her backup plan was to catch him before he'd have time to tell anyone about her.

That's why she came to Warren. Best man in the business. He typed quickly as he hacked into the hospital computers, one hospital at a time.

"Aha," he said at last and clicked print before getting out of the system. He began work on her badge immediately as he briefed her. "He's in room 311. His doctor is Doctor Schwartz. Doctor Schwartz will be in surgery for at least three hours this afternoon. That's your window."

She nodded as he carefully cut the photo of her. He had taken it earlier and touched it up to make her appear slightly different and to lose the blue streaks in her hair. Moments later he produced a replica of that hospital's badge. "I've got a coat here," he said as he began rummaging through a closet. He pulled one out and held it up to her. "Perfect." With a sigh, he looked her over. "Doctor's don't have blue streaked hair, though," he added.

"I've got that under control," she replied. "Thanks Warren."

~~~~~~

Aurora slipped her gun into the waistband of her pants, then buttoned the white coat. One last look in the mirror to make sure the twist she'd done in her hair hid the odd colouration as she stepped out of her Jeep and she walked slowly to the doors.

She waited until an ambulance pulled up to the ER entrance, then walked in casually with the group surrounding the stretcher. As she got inside, she moved to the front desk. She picked up a chart and started to read it nonchalantly. As soon as there was a distraction, she picked up the clipboard chart and walked quickly to the elevators.

Exiting on the third floor, she saw the numbers posted on the wall and went to the wing that included 311. Rounding the corner she saw two officers standing outside one of the doors. She walked to the nurses station and set down the chart she carried, then pretended to scribble as she observed the room out of the corner of her eye. Once she had seen enough, she slipped the chart into a mix of other charts and walked down the hall. Taking a deep breath in and one long breath out, she walked with the best air of confidence she could. She stood in front of 311 and held out her badge. "I'm checking in on Doctor Schwartz's patients while he's in surgery." She smiled self-assuredly and took the chart from beside the door then flipped it open and clicked the pen in her hand.

The officer smiled and opened the door. "Certainly, Doctor," he replied and let her pass.

Fraser looked up and studied the new person in the room. Aurora stepped over to Stan's bed. He was sleeping, she saw as she let out a long breath. She looked to Fraser and knew instantly that this was going to count. "Hello. I'm Doctor Call. Doctor Schwartz asked me to check on" she looked at the chart as if to double check the name. "Stan Kowalski." She paused a moment. "I'd like to examine him alone for a few minutes," she said quietly.

Fraser stood. "Stan and I are very good friends. I am certain he wouldn't mind if I were to stay with him." He took a breath. "Is something wrong?"

She shook her head. "Doctor Schwartz was just a little concerned about some of the results," she replied. "I'm sorry. I'll send for you as soon as I am done." She smiled in a professional manner and waited.

Fraser thought a moment, then took his hat and left.

Aurora listened for the door to click closed, then stepped closer to the bed and squatted down. She reached out to touch Stan's face. "Stan," she said softly as his eyes slowly opened.

When he saw her face so near his own, he jumped, then gasped with pain.

She held a finger to his lips. "Please don't say anything," she said softly with a tear slowly forming. "I'm sorry I shot you. I'm sorry I had to shoot you."

Stan took in a deep breath. "What are you doing here?"

She stood and his eyes followed her. "I had to see you again."

In shock, Stan shook his head. "After this? You almost killed me and you came to see me? How could you..."

She stopped him by putting out her hand. "Stan, I'm sorry. You are a cop. I...I should have killed you, but I couldn't."

"I guess I should be grateful," he croaked sarcastically and turned away for a moment.

She moved and he immediately turned his head back to her and reached out to stop her. He grabbed, but he only brushed something solid with his fingertips as she stepped backwards. It took him a moment to realize what it could be.

"Is that a gun?" He tried to sit up, but the pain stopped him. "You came here to kill me?" he asked alarmed.

"No," she said quickly. "No, I couldn't. I only brought this in case you told them who I am."

"You were gonna shoot your way out? How can you?... I can't believe you are a killer."

She looked away. "Come on, Stan. It was the perfect plan. There is always a lull between the time a security guard comes in and the cops arriving at a crime scene. I had to count on that lull to get away. If I didn't kill them, I would have been caught."

Stan was still confused by her reasoning. "Caught for stealing, sure. You're a thief!" At that he slumped back, his entire body aching, his throat on fire. "And a murderer." He croaked, trying to let the truth sink in, but finding it impossible to admit.

The door opened and Aurora reacted without thinking. She opened her lab coat and put her hand on the gun Stan recognized. The .45 Glock. She looked into his eyes waiting for a cue, but Stan simply shook his head. She pulled the coat closed to hide the gun again, her nerves on edge at the unexpected interruption.

"Oh, you are awake," Fraser said as he walked around the bed. "I must apologize," Fraser added. "I was certain you would be finished by now."

Aurora didn't reply. She held up the chart and looked at it.

Stan smiled at Fraser and nodded. "Yeah. I'm awake," he said softly.

A question formed in his mind as he sat there looking at his friend. How had she gotten in and out of the room those nights without his noticing? Then it came together in his mind. The drinks, the wine, something she always prepared in another room, then brought to him. He turned to Aurora. "Drugs? To help me sleep... through the pain?" He said vaguely.

"Yes," she replied simply, catching his intent. "Yes, I have taken care of that." She added, but didn't move for a moment. Then she finally closed the chart and left without another word.

It was nearly two hours later when Doctor Schwartz walked into Stan's room. Stan was sleeping and Fraser was feeling groggy. He stood and walked over to the doctor. "Is everything all right?"

Doctor Schwartz looked confused by the manner Fraser portrayed. "Yes. In fact he should be able to go home in just a few days. The physical therapy will start tomorrow. He should recover fully." He paused. "But I told you that earlier."

Fraser tipped his head. "Yes, but you sent in that doctor to check on him. She made it seem as though...."

"Excuse me?" Schwartz interrupted. "I have been in surgery for several hours. I knew he would be all right until I was able to return."

Fraser furrowed his brow, then sprang to life as it all began to make sense. "Who can tell me if there is a Doctor Call working here?" he asked.

Doctor Schwartz took him to the nearest computer and they began the search. There was, of course, no Doctor Call in the system.

Fraser borrowed a pen and a piece of paper to make a quick sketch of the woman he saw, then faxed it to Welsh. After a few moments, he returned to Stan's bedside and watched him sleep. Running over the information in his mind, he was determined to be of help on this case. It had just gotten personal and as far as he was concerned, that meant there had to be justice. Welsh had gone over the files with him, although some information was still being kept quiet by the FBI. He closed his eyes and ran over what he knew of the crime scene in his mind.

Two black clad beings with packs. The one a slight figure, the one labeled as a female. The female shooting with precision, Moore, Canell, her partner, and... Stan? She'd never left one alive before. She'd never missed a single shot in all those robberies. Too many bodies to name right away, but she missed one? It was intentional, that was obvious.

He heard a noise and opened his eyes only to see Stan groan in his sleep. He blocked the vision of the room again. Stan had been doing so much better. 'He found someone he thought he loved. Someone who perhaps even loved him.' His mind began to click. 'He *thinks* they aren't seeing each other anymore? Isn't that something he would know? Where is she? Where was she during all of this?' He opened his eyes again and stared at Stan who slept fitfully. 'Why else would he have been left alive?'

It was beginning to get dark when Fraser caught himself dozing as he slouched in the uncomfortable seat. He shook his head and pulled himself up.

The sound of movement was enough to bring Stan from a state of rest to fully awake. He opened his eyes and looked at Fraser.

"Hi, Stan," Fraser said softly and waited for a response.

Stan only nodded a little and licked his lips.

Fraser seemed strange as he ran his thumb across his brow. "You know, I'm very concerned about this woman you were seeing. You remember her?"

Stan cleared his throat and nodded, a look of fear and confusion crossing his face.

"Are you sure you don't want us to call her? It seems as though..."

"No, Fraze, I don't," he croaked. "I don't want to talk about her, ok?" he said softly as he stared at the ceiling.

"I find it curious."

Stan turned back when Fraser paused.

Fraser saw Stan raise his eyebrows and continued. "You said you didn't think you were seeing each other anymore."

Stan nodded.

"You don't think?" He tipped his head. "I would think you would *know* whether or not you were still courting her."

Stan said nothing. He couldn't think of anything to say. There was no way to argue that question and he wasn't about to delve into yet another lie. "Did the doctor stop by?"

Fraser paused before answering, noting the change of subject. "Yes. Everything is fine," he replied simply.

~~~~~~~~~

Stan started physical therapy the next day which was the same day Fraser had to return to the Yukon and his job. Fraser promised to call and check in on his friend often. Still concerned, Fraser felt Stan was not acting himself.

Stan couldn't go more than a few minutes without thinking about Aurora. He dreamt of her, remembered her smell, her appearance, her gentle touch, her soft lips. He relived the feeling of her silky skin against his. He could feel himself running his fingers through her hair. He would see a glass of wine on television or smell something that would bring it all back again.

The worst part was not remembering her, it was the thoughts of what to do with her. He felt like a cage was holding him away from her, but it was a cage he'd built himself. Slowly that cage made him feel like a trapped panther. He felt like he was pacing back and forth, watching the world go by before him. The darkness and anger settled in his soul and Welsh saw it.

"Doctors won't let you back to work for a while," he'd told Stan the night they let him go home. "Maybe we can find you something to do here at home though."

Stan shook his head.

"Are you sure?"

Stan leaned back on the couch and nodded.

"Well, I have to get home. Are you going to be okay tonight? Can I bring you something when I come tomorrow?"

Stan nodded at the first question, then finally spoke at the second. "Bring me a Steve McQueen movie, wouldja? Don't care which one." He hoped watching one of his favourite films would cheer himself up.

Welsh agreed. "Look, Stan, as soon as you can get around on your own, well, it's desk work, but..."

"I know," Stan replied. "I really wanna rest now," he said softly and made himself comfortable on the sofa.

"You don't want to go into the bedroom?"

Stan shook his head. "I can make it myself later if I want."

Welsh took a deep breath and left. The doctors had told him it could be quite a while before Stan would be able to return to his usual routine and Welsh wasn't sure Stan could handle that. 'He isn't handling it very well so far,' he thought with concern.

~~~~~~~~

Stan was beginning to lose track of time, but was sure he had only been out of the hospital a few days when the vultures arrived. It took him a considerable amount of time to make it to the door as the person on the other side banged loudly.

He opened it and saw two men in dark suits holding out their badges.

"Oh, god," Stan sighed. "IA."

"You must be Kowalski," one of them said as they both walked inside and made note of the environment.

"Come on in," Stan said softly as he closed the door and made his way painfully back to the couch. "Have a seat," he said as he flopped down with a grimace.

One of the men sat while the other poked around the apartment. The one who was sitting took a long look at Stan. "I'm Krik and this is Reznor. We've been contacted by the federal agents in Washington to investigate. We have a few questions for you." He smiled a condescending smile.

God, how he hated IA. Every cop hated them. They were the enemy, or so he had been taught by the other cops since his first day at the academy. One thing he didn't understand, however, was why it was Internal Affairs sitting in his living room and not a fellow detective or a federal agent. This fact was also not made clear to him, at first.

Krik flipped open a notebook and put his pen at the ready. "Let's start with a description. Tell us what you saw."

Stan cleared his throat. "Well, I followed Moore and Canell into the building and the first thing I saw was a security guard's head get blown off. I saw that Moore was splitting to try to catch the, uh, shooter from the side. So I split off and went the other way. I figgered she couldn't cover us all." He watched Krik scribble. "Uh, the shooter took down Moore, then Canell. I heard the shot that hit me in the hip and fell, then saw the other thief get shot. All I was thinkin' was I was the only one left. I reached for my gun and got shot in the arm"

Krik looked up. "Did you say 'she'?"

Stan looked at Reznor who was now standing beside Krik, then back at Krik. "Huh?"

Krik looked at his notes. "I figured she couldn't cover us all," he repeated. "Why 'she'?"

Stan swallowed and shrugged. "I was told that it might be a woman doing this 'cause whoever it was is small. I was watching her, him, uh, well, they were moving around and it kinda moved like a woman. I guess I just..."

"Just what, Detective? You just figured it out?" He paused. "What did she look like?"

"I didn't see the person. They were both wearin' masks and gloves and..."

"We know what they were wearing, Detective. This woman you didn't see shot out the cameras that night. The tapes have nothing from that point, but the way we see it is that she shot them out because she was about to do something that would give her away. Like remove her mask. You weren't dead, so you must have seen something."

"I was bleeding pretty bad," Stan replied feebly. "I must've been unconscious if she did."

Krik made a note, then turned to Reznor. Reznor smiled and reached into his jacket. He took out a picture and handed it to Stan. "Your friend, Constable Fraser, made this sketch. This woman came to the hospital. She came into your room. We figure she must be the killer, but if she is, why didn't she kill you?"

Stan looked at the picture. Fraser had done a perfect drawing, as usual. He could see her soul in the eyes. His heart jumped, but he casually handed the paper back to them. He considered his options only a moment. Tell them he hadn't seen her, but Fraser had come in while they spoke. "She was a doctor," he said simply.

Krik frowned. "Actually, Detective, she wasn't a doctor. Schwartz confirmed that for us. What was she doing there? Giving you your share of the money? Huh? Come on, Detective. We know you were involved."

Stan took a deep breath. "I don't know what you are talking about. If she wasn't a doctor, I didn't have a clue about it."

"Welsh confirms that your behaviour started to become strange about the time that you became involved in this case. Care to explain that? Did they come to you with a deal?"

"I'm a straight up cop," Stan replied quickly. "Maybe you should ID this picture before you come to me with your half assed questions."

"Maybe we should," Krik replied and stood. "But we've done some research and there is more. The thefts started while you were conveniently out of the country. Did you meet them? Is that when you made the deal?"

Stan grunted. "Look, I was with Fraser. He's a Mountie. He'll back me up and he can't lie."

"Perhaps, Detective, but wasn't there any time when you were apart? Any brief moments you could have been meeting with this person?"

Stan shook his head. "No. We were out in the middle of nowhere. It's not like I had a chance to run out to the bar for a drink. Gimme a break, guys. You can't have any proof because I wasn't involved. This is half assed and you know it."

"This isn't over." Krik said as he looked at Reznor. "We got what we need for now," he said as the two left together.

Krik pulled the door closed and began his way down the hall. "Defensive. Just like I knew he would be."

"Maybe," Reznor replied. "He's not cooperating completely, though. That's what has me wondering."

Krik shrugged. "Well, we tested him. We know what we got. That's all we came for."

Reznor nodded and pushed the elevator button.

~~~~~~

His first day back at work Stan mostly stared at the stack of papers in front of him. The end of the day came gratefully, but instead of packing up to leave, he flipped on the computer left by the new civilian aide. He spent several hours on it trying to figure out how to make it work.

Soon he got the knack, however, and the research began. He began with criminal records.

Ten years ago, Aurora had been arrested. Her file showed the charge of three thefts and a photo that looked very different to the woman he now knew. All three thefts were jewelry stores. She had a style which they eventually linked to her. Unfortunately, the case hinged on a jewel found in her apartment. Once her lawyers determined and proved that it was seized illegally, the judge was forced to let her off.

Upon further inspection into unsolved jewel thefts, he found that there were several more jewel heists and a few museum thefts that had been linked to her because of the style of the theft. All at once it had stopped, though, and there had been no more thefts linked to her for six years. The files were more or less forgotten.

He found then searched the records in the cities where her new string of thieving began again. She had purchased a condo and paid for it in full nearly four months ago. It was still showing as her address, but then when he searched in the second city, he found another condo. She had purchased condos in each city and kept them as hers. The thing that surprised him, however, was the fact that each condo went on the market to be sold within a week after he had been shot.

She had good taste. She stole jewels, art, artifacts, mostly things that were heavily jeweled. Only a few had turned up again, the rest remained missing. He realized they most likely sat in private collections or in safes of those who could afford the high prices they must have fetched.

Once he understood her crime, he moved on. Location. He searched every database he could find in an attempt to locate. It was nearly morning by the time he finally turned off the computer and went out to find an endless coffee supply.

~~~~~~

Aurora disappeared. She was thankful of the connections that now allowed her to become a faceless being.

She feared each day that Stan was going to turn her in and the hunt would begin, but the word never came. She read every newspaper article every day, but there was never a word. The theft had stopped and no one seemed to notice. She knew the investigation was continuing, but it was obviously remaining a quiet case.

She could not resist the thoughts of theft for long, however. She still went to jewelry stores and museums and even planned a few robberies, but she never carried them out.

Stan infiltrated her thoughts, much as she had infiltrated his. She loved him and she knew that, but she knew returning would be death to the both of them. She would either go to prison, where the best hope she had as a multiple cop killer was to hold the record for the longest sentence, or she would have to kill them both.

She extended her contacts who watched him for her. She knew he was being investigated, a fact she suspected would occur since she had let him live, but she could do nothing for him.

~~~~~~

"Just because we haven't made a match doesn't mean we aren't going to," Krik said as he slammed his fist on the table. "It's a huge database. Why don't you make it easy on us both." Krik and Reznor were both frustrated. After a search of Stan's apartment and bank records, they still had no solid proof that he was involved.

Stan stuck by his story that he hadn't seen anything. "Look, I wish I could help you out. Nobody wants to see a cop killer behind bars more than me."

"Is that so?" Reznor replied sternly.

"You have nothing," Stan said softly, but feeling anger in his gut. "You are never going to find anything on me because there is nothing to find."

"We'll find something, Detective. I know we will. Why else would you be alive?" Krik stood and left with Reznor.

Stan was alone in the interrogation room, left to think about that final question. A question for which he didn't have even a vague answer. A question that scared him every moment he didn't hear a gun being fired.

A minute later the door opened and Welsh stood in the doorway. "You've got a call, Detective," Welsh said. "It's Fraser."

Stan felt sick and worn down. He stood very slowly and limped back to his desk.

"Hello." He spoke in a weary tone and sat down.

"Hi, Stan," Fraser said. "I haven't heard from you for several days. How are you doing?"

Stan shook his head, then rested it on his free hand. "I've been busy," he replied simply.

Fraser leaned back. It wasn't like Stan to use quiet reserve when he was angry. He waited to see if Stan would say more, then asked. "What's going on?"

Stan took a breath. "Too much, Fraser. I've got IA breathing down my neck. I've probably got Feds watching my every move. I'm waiting for someone to shoot me down in the street. What the hell do you think?"

Fraser didn't know what to say. "Didn't my drawing help?"

Stan scoffed. "Yeah, your drawing helped, Fraze. They're asking me who's in the damned drawing every five seconds. I can't tell them. Thanks for the help, there." His voice dripped with sarcasm.

"Don't they match any records?"

Stan swallowed. "No. They haven't found a connection yet, anyway." He hated lying to his friend, but he knew he couldn't tell the complete truth. The truth was, the experts hadn't found a connection, but they didn't know what they were looking for. Most of the technology they used now to make a match were not used at the time of her arrest so a match was difficult, if not impossible.

Fraser was disappointed. "Stan, I'm sorry." He took a breath. "I've been trying to make arrangements to join you again until you are better, until this situation is over, but it doesn't look good. I'd like..."

"It's ok, Fraze. I don't need you. You can't do anything anyway."

Fraser sighed. "I know, but I would still like to be there."

Stan looked at his watch. It was nearing the end of the day and he was ready for it. "Thanks, Fraze." He took a long breath. "I need to get home," he said softly. "We'll talk again soon."

Fraser felt only more concern at the way Stan was handling his pain and anger. It was unlike him, but at the same time he knew Stan was in no position to "kick 'em in the head." He smiled vaguely at the thought, the memories. "Wait, Stan," Fraser said softly. "I think we should talk."

Stan took a deep breath and leaned back in his seat. "Yeah?"

"I... I should have told you this before. There were so many opportunities. So many quiet nights when all we did was talk."

"What, Fraze? What? Look, I'm having a hard enough time..."

"A woman," Fraser said simply, knowing it would get Stan's attention.

"What?"

"I knew a woman once. She was..."

"A woman? You are talking to me about a woman? You've known a lot of women, Fraser. Ice Queen and Frannie, for starters," he paused. "Don't tell me. Let me guess. This one's an Inuit woman. Some story about an Inuit woman who tanned a buffalo hide for you? Come on, Fraze. I know every damn story you have to tell. I heard 'em all, but we're not stuck in ice so I don't have to hear it, ok?"

Fraser felt frustrated. He knew Stan would be on a secure line now, but if he waited, he'd be at home and with IA breathing down his neck, well, Fraser had learned what that meant. He took a deep breath knowing this was his only chance.

"She drove the getaway car from a robbery in Alaska. I tracked her to a place called Fortitude Pass...and....I fell in love with her."

Stan nearly dropped the phone. What he was hearing couldn't be true. It was insane in comparison to Fraser's persona.

"We were caught in a storm. By the time it broke, we were very near death. She asked me to let her go, but it was my duty to bring her in." He took a moment to lick his lower lip. "She spent ten years in prison."

"You arrested her?" Stan asked, admiring the guts it must have taken to do such a thing.

"Yes," Fraser replied, then continued. "When she got out of prison, she found me." He took another long breath and retold his love, his pain, his regret.

"....At that point, she ran to the trains. I was confused. I followed. Then she begged me to go with her." He paused. "I didn't want to make the same mistake. I didn't think I could live with the regret, so I took her hand and joined her. I don't think I could have stayed with her, even if Ray hadn't shot me."

Stan had remained quiet, soaking in the information. "Ray shot you? Hey, wait a minute..."

Fraser cleared his throat. "He thought she had a gun. I got in the way." He sighed. "I suppose it's time for you to go now," he added softly. "I just wanted you to know..." he let the sentence trail.

Stan sat quiet a moment, not knowing what to say. Fraser was telling him so much more than a story. He was reminded of the moment in the hospital when Fraser had questioned him about the woman he knew. He took in a breath. "Thanks, Fraze," he finally spilled out. "I just...thanks." The decision was still his own and Fraser hadn't given him much hope.

"There is no right answer," Fraser added softly. "We will talk soon."

Stan sighed and said his farewell.

~~~~~

Stan slept uncomfortably in the heat. Not only was it unseasonably hot, but the pain medications and the broken heating vent made the heat more intense. A breeze blew through the window he had opened slightly to reduce the temperature in the room. He dreamt his name and woke with a start.

Aurora stood before him. She saw him look at her and took a step forward. He reached for his gun, but didn't pick it up. She froze and held out her hand. In it was a note. She stepped closer.

"I've been watching you," she said softly. "You've been looking for me."

He reached out to take the note and touched her hand, then reached for her. She stepped back one step. Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out her gun.

Stan grabbed for his gun, cocked it, and pointed it at her, but lowered it when she set her gun on the edge of his bed.

"You're a cop. I see that. You are a cop through and through. I am a thief through and through." She took a deep breath and motioned to the gun. "Consider it a peace offering." She stopped again and brushed her hair from her face. "Either we are together in death or we can never be together." Her voice became softer as she took a step toward him again. "You can meet me at the club tomorrow at midnight." She wiped away a tear. "You have the chance to turn me in, but it will be death to me. I cannot live my life in prison as the same person I am now. The person you love will leave when the cuffs go on." She choked a little and continued. "That is, if I let them take me." She pulled a vial from her pocket. "Poison," she said softly. "I love you." Her voice cracked as she spoke the words.

Stan opened his mouth, but she was gone before he got out the words "I love you, too."

He stared at the note in his hand and the gun on his bed for several minutes. He finally picked up the gun and put it beside his on the nightstand, then rested the unopened note on top of them.

The incident made for a sleepless night. The only thing he could do was think. Every moment he spent in thought. He had questions, so many questions for her it was unbearable.

He had questions for himself as well. He couldn't imagine turning her in, but at the same time, he couldn't imagine letting her go. There was too much pain in him to make a decision, so he didn't.

~~~~~~

Midnight of the next day was nearing and Stan still didn't know what to do. He hadn't breathed a word of the incidents to anyone, but he knew he could pick up the cell phone any minute and make the call. He sat outside the club in his car and stared at the entrance.

When he walked into the club where he had first met her, Stan felt a million miles away. He looked around for her. After a few minutes, he felt someone touch his shoulder. He spun and found himself staring into those blue eyes he could lose himself in. "Aurora," he said softly, a smile making it's way onto his face at the sight of her.

She took his hand and led him away from the crowd to a corner. It was more quiet there and they would be able to talk. She didn't speak, only stared into his eyes. He stared back, sucked in. He wanted to hold her, to pretend none of this had ever happened. He wished things could go back to the way they were when she was just his soul mate, nothing more. Was it so much to ask?

"I...I...I want things to be different," he stuttered feebly.

"So do I," she replied softly. "I wasn't supposed to fall in love."

Stan took a deep breath. "If only none of this had ever happened."

She gripped his hand more tightly and smiled. "I know. I know. If I hadn't fallen for you, if you weren't a cop. It means nothing, now, though. We can't take it all back. We love each other."

Stan simply nodded.

"We love each other and that's why it'll never work." Aurora looked away, then looked back to him. "You were just supposed to be an alibi, a backup. Why couldn't you have been just that? Why did you have to be so much more?"

Stan took a deep breath. "Why did you do it?" he said, speaking the only words that came to his mind.

She looked into his eyes, making him melt. "I can't explain it to you so that you'll understand. We are too different." She took a breath and continued. "For a moment, no matter how brief, they were in my possession. I held them. I owned them. They became something I could control. I chose who bought them. I chose how much money they brought. I had something more rare and beautiful than anything else in the world. Nothing replicated, nothing false." Her passion for the objects showed through. "It was like leading a pack of wild animals through the rain. No one could really own these things. They belong to the world, not to the museum or the jeweler, but I held them in my hands and I studied them and freed them."

Stan furrowed his brow. "You freed objects? From ownership? They aren't living beings. You killed living beings to get them. You are a cop killer. As far as I'm concerned, there is no way to excuse that."

Aurora looked away. She couldn't think of anything to say to make him understand her position. She wiped away a tear and looked at him again.

"What about your partner? You didn't know the security guards, the cops, so maybe you didn't think of them as humans, but your partner? How could you do that? How can I not fear for my life with you when you killed your own partner?"

She licked her lips, then bit at the lower one. "He got greedy. I warned him not to get so greedy. He slowed me down. I'd have been gone by the time you got there if he hadn't stopped me. I wouldn't have had to... one bullet. That's all I ever needed. One bullet for each security guard. One bullet for you. All I had going for me was one bullet each." She shook her head. "Besides, I couldn't let him see me talking to you. I couldn't believe..."

He interrupted, a crack in his voice as a lump formed in his throat. "You were so different. I loved you. I loved everything about you." He closed his eyes and the images took over. "I wanted us to be one." He opened them and gripped her arm so hard she winced and tried to pull away. "We were going to be...perfect," he said the word, realizing simultaneously there was no such thing as perfection.

She tried again to pull from his grip, then stopped. With her free hand, she grabbed his head and leaned in for a kiss. At first he wanted to resist, but he couldn't. In that moment they were the perfect beings he had wanted them to be. Nothing else mattered. He let her arm go and wrapped both arms around her, holding her tightly as the kiss deepened.

All at once, there was a commotion. The two broke apart and she spun. Stan looked up and let go of her and was knocked to the ground by one of the police officers who had burst through the crowd. Without giving him a chance to react, four officers were on Aurora, struggling to cuff her. He looked over and her eyes were filled with tears, but she recognized the confusion on his face.

"I didn't..." he tried to say as she looked at him. She closed her eyes briefly, then opened them and saw the look on his face. She saw that he was sincere, that this wasn't his fault. She closed her eyes again and took a note of each place she was being held, the position they had her body in.

The officers from IA and two federal agents came out of the crowd and Stan was half kicked out of the way. He tried to make eye contact with her again, but the commotion increased, then the group separated and began looking around the bar while insisting the lights be turned on and the music stopped. He watched helpless in the confusion, then all at once he realized why there was such chaos. She was nowhere to be found. She had managed to slip away.

Awareness smacked him and he knew he couldn't be found there when the questioning began. He hurried through the back of the club and found the service entrance where he was able to slip away unnoticed.

~~~~~~

Not knowing where to go or what to do, Stan drove around the streets of Chicago for hours. He feared that he would go home and find more officers waiting for him. His mind was racing. He couldn't figure out how they had known who she was or that she was there. 'Did they follow me? Were they watching the night she came into my room?'

He pounded his fist against the steering wheel and looked at the gas gauge. With a screech, he pulled up to a gas station. Staring for several minutes at the sign on the pump, he ran their conversation through his mind. One bullet. She had used two on him, but still hadn't used the fatal one. He sauntered inside to pay for his gas and the image of her face pressed against the ground by an officer's knee was frozen in his mind. He shook his head and looked to the cashier as he held out his money.

He looked out the window and saw a blue Jeep. He dropped the money and ran out of the establishment, then froze as the woman in the front seat looked up. Her blonde hair seemed cruel as the small woman stepped from the vehicle.

Poison. He remembered the poison as he got back into his car and drove aimlessly. He wondered if she had taken the poison or if she would take the poison now that she had been caught. 'She must know it's only a matter of time before they track her down again.'

Stan found himself in front of the station holding his badge in his hand. He stared at it and let all of her words rush over him. 'You're a cop?', 'a cop, through and through.' After a moment he reached for his gun. He was immediately smacked with the realization that it wasn't there. In his head he saw the images of the two guns on his nightstand. 'My gun. Her gun and a note that says God knows what on the nightstand.' He could see the officers from IA searching his apartment and finding them there together.

Running inside of the building, he stopped short at his door. It hadn't been tampered with, as he'd expected. He unlocked it and stepped inside. He could see nothing out of place as he walked through the apartment. He stepped into the bedroom and saw the open window. He was sure he had closed it, but without thinking, he went to it and pushed it closed. He turned back to the room and the nightstand. There was one gun sitting on the table, not the two he had expected. 'Maybe they were here,' he thought, then walked over to the nightstand. He looked down and saw that the note was gone also. His gun sat there alone, a single bullet beside it. Furrowing his brow, he picked up the bullet and examined it. It was a .45, he observed right away, while his gun was a 9mm.

~~~~~~

Stan was anxious as he walked into the station. He went directly to Welsh's office and wrapped gently on the door.

"Come in!" Welsh hollered in his usual harsh tone as Stan stepped inside. "Detective?" he said simply.

Stan was confused. "Uh, I was wondering... well... uh... about the case. About the theft, the IA... am I..." he stuttered.

Welsh held up a hand. "Let me help you, Detective. The feds finally made a match last night. They put the picture on the evening news and somebody spotted her."

Stan took a deep breath. "Oh? Did they find her?"

Welsh chuckled. "Well, yes and no. Someone called in a report that she was at some club. They sent some cops in there and somehow she slipped through their fingers."

Stan breathed a sigh of relief and sat across from Welsh. "So what about IA? Please tell me they're done with me."

Welsh shrugged. "I don't know, but they didn't say anything about not working, so get to work."

Stan nodded and stood to leave. He stopped at the doorway and turned back. "If you hear anything else about that case, you'll let me know, won't you?"

Welsh nodded. "Watch your backside, Detective."

"Sir?"

"I don't believe for a minute you were involved and the fact remains, you are the only cop she left alive. Watch your backside."

"Understood," Stan said, then looked down and shook his head. "Damn you, Fraze," he added simply and left.

~~~~~~

It was weeks of watching cases roll through his desk before Stan was back in the field. Each day, however, he checked the database on thefts. If Aurora had truly been a thief, she would resurface. It was months before he saw the case that caught his eye.

The thief managed to get in and out of the museum undetected. Stealing several valuable jewels, the thief had left undetected also. The next morning when the museum opened, a tour guide noted the theft. In the place where the jewels had been, there lay 4 bullets. Bullets for a .45 to be precise, in perfect condition.

Taking that information, Stan linked it to two other robberies, a number of bullets left at each scene. He researched and soon found that at each scene, she had left a specific number of bullets. One for each security guard working that night, plus one extra.

It was Aurora. Stan knew that without question.

~~~~~~~

Stan still felt the pain in his hip and shoulder on cold mornings, but for the most part, he had healed well, the doctors said often. The important thing was that he was back on the streets, unleashing his hammer on criminals and pissing off his fellow officers. IA had long ago finished investigating him, realizing he wasn't living the life of a cop getting payoffs under the table. He also had no contacts that seemed shady. Eventually, they moved on.

Fraser was able to get off another week during which he joined his friend back in Chicago. He was glad to see Stan enthused about his job and his life again. It eased the concerns, invigorating him as he watched Stan work.

Fraser's timing turned out to be better than expected. Lieutenant Welsh was offered a plaque for his extended services and Fraser would have a chance to join Stan at the ceremony.

A small banquet honoring several men, it was held in a small ballroom at a very nice hotel. In his dress red serge, Fraser sat at the back table and took a sip of water. He looked up just in time to see Stan walk through the doors in a black pinstripe suit and dark tie. He was a little surprised by the appearance, despite the fact that it was expected.

Stan caught a glimpse of Fraser immediately and walked over. "Well, you'll be the first one to pick off if there's a sniper attack," Stan said with a huge grin as he pulled out the chair beside Fraser.

Fraser watched Stan take his seat and smiled. "I didn't know you owned a suit," Fraser replied.

Stan looked full of himself as he leaned back. "Like it? I borrowed it."

Fraser nodded as Stan finally removed his sunglasses.

Not a minute later, there was a tapping sound and they looked to the front of the room as the speeches began.

Stan drank his water quickly, as well as the offered refill. It wasn't long before he leaned over to Fraser and whispered. "When's Welsh up?"

Fraser glanced at Stan. "I believe he is the last."

Stan shifted and moved quietly. "Good. I gotta use the can."

Fraser rolled his eyes. "It's all that water..." he began.

Stan put a hand on Fraser's shoulder. "Ok, not a good time, Fraze. I'll be right back."

Fraser nodded, then turned back to the speakers so he wouldn't draw attention to Stan's disappearance.

Stan walked out of the room and down the hall to the bathrooms. The entire area was decorated in such a grand style, he felt like he didn't belong.

As he stepped out of the restroom and adjusted his pants, he heard a soft voice. "Well, if it isn't the hunter."

Stan spun and found Aurora leaning casually against the wall, a smile across her face. Stan didn't move for a moment. "If it isn't the fox," he replied softly, then stepped toward her. "What are you doing here?"

She shrugged.

"There are a couple hundred cops in the next room," he added as he buttoned the jacket.

"You look great," she said softly, then looked away.

The silence fell uncomfortably between them. Stan cleared his throat in an attempt to relieve it, but it didn't help. He reached for her, but she took a step back.

"I didn't turn you in," he said, finally.

She lifted her head and looked into his eyes. "I know."

Quiet again, it was less uncomfortable.

"You've been stealing again," he said feebly.

She nodded. "I wasn't going to change. You knew that. I changed for you, though."

"Changed?"

"I stopped killing them. I found other means to my end."

Stan chuckled. "You're still stealing."

"Stop it," she said firmly, his smile drifting away. Biting her lip, she took a step forward. "It doesn't matter. Even if I stop stealing, I'm a criminal. The only thing that could change that is you, but we could never be together, don't you see?"

"Yes. Yeah, I see. There's no way 'round it."

She stepped a bit closer. "One more kiss?"

He stepped forward and put his arms around her. "One last kiss." He leaned in and pressed his lips to hers. For a moment, it was just the two of them. The rest of the world and the rest of their lives didn't exist. He wanted that to last forever. He believed it would have, too, if the voice from outside his mind hadn't interrupted them.

"Stan? There you are."

Stan jumped and flipped around. Fraser was walking toward him, the length of the hall being the only thing that saved them from being caught.

Fraser blushed slightly. "I didn't mean to interrupt. You didn't return so I..."

Stan flipped back around, but Aurora was gone. He turned back to Fraser. Fraser looked past Stan as he stepped close. "Oh. I thought you were with someone."

Stan shook his head. "No. No, it was just a...a..."

"An apparition?" Fraser filled in for him.

Stan nodded. "A ghost."

~~~~~

THE END

~~~~~

Face to face * my lovely foe. * Mouth to mouth * raining heaven's blows. * Hand on heart. * Tic tac toe. * Under the stars * naked as we flow. * Cheek to cheek. * The bitter sweet. * Commit your crime in your deadly time. * It's too divine. * I want to bend. * I want this bliss, but something says I must resist * Another life. * Another time. * We're Siamese twins writhing intertwined. * Face to face. * No telling lies. * The masks they slide to reveal a new disguise. * You never can win. * It's the state I'm in. * This danger thrills and my conflict kills. * They say follow your heart * Follow it through, * but how can you * when you're split in two? * And you'll never know. * You'll never know. * One more kiss * before we die. * Face to face * and dream of flying. * Who are you? * Who am I? * Wind in wings. * Two angels falling. * To die like this * with a last kiss * it's falsehoods flame * it's a crying shame. * Face to face. * The passions breathe. * I hate to stay, but then I hate to leave. * And you'll never know. * You'll never know.

'Face To Face' Written by Danny Elfman and Siouxsie and the Banshees. Performed by Siouxsie and the Banshees.