Work Text:
Officer
by Pirate Turner
He walked down the street at a brisk pace, whistling merrily with his hands stuffed into his pockets. He was headed home after hours of nothing but problems, or so it seemed, at the office and had started his three-day weekend less than an hour ago. Suddenly, strong hands snaked out from an alley that he was passing, abruptly cutting off his whistle. Somebody snatched him into the alley and slammed him into the wall. He felt something cold press against his back, and then a snarling voice in his ear demanded, "Your money and your cards now."
He trembled despite himself as terror clutched at his heart. "I -- They're in my back pocket."
He felt a hand begin to slide into his pocket, but a new voice as cold as ice came from the mouth of the alley. "Not on my beat." He managed to slant his eyes just enough so that he could barely make out where the voice came from. The sun that slanted in from outside shadowed her face, but he could make out the outline of the police officer's lithe, firm body. Something about it tugged at the back of his mind, but he dismissed it as merely being his hormones. After all, it wasn't every day that a woman with a gun came to his rescue. Of course, it also wasn't every day that a woman with a gun assaulted and robbed him.
"Don't try anything, bitch," came the snarling response from behind him. "You do, and he's as good as dead."
"Kill him, and I kill you."
"But that's against the law."
A smirk played on cold lips. "So? I don't care if I'm thrown into jail. I've been in worse places before." Her blue eyes were as cold and hard as steel as she slowly approached the thief, her gun levered straight at the other woman's head. "And I don't care if I die. Can you say the same?"
"You're nuts."
A dangerous light danced in those same steely eyes. "Maybe, but you can't prove it. Now drop the gun."
"Or what?"
"Or I'll shoot you now."
"But I'll still have time to shoot him before I die."
"Maybe, maybe not. Is that a chance you're willing to take?"
"Is it one you're willing to?"
"Try me."
"Don't I get any say in this?!" he asked frantically.
"Be quiet," both women snapped at him. The thief slid behind his side, then pushed him before her while she held her gun to his head. "Try anything, and I'll blow his brains out -- right here, right now."
"Then I'll just have to add first-degree murder to your other charges." Although the officer's words were smooth and even, she nonetheless backed up, giving the other woman room, until she was almost out of the alley. At the last possible minute, she darted forward. The other woman's finger began to close on her trigger, but the officer grabbed the hand that held the gun and yanked it forward just in time. Even as the harmless shot rang off, the two women began to struggle over the gun.
The man started to run but found himself stopping at the edge of the alley and looking back at the women just in time to see the officer gain the upper hand as she forced the thief to relinquish the gun. The deadly piece of metal fell to the pavement below and slid across to come to a rest at his very feet, but his brown eyes remained fixed on the women. Just as soon as the gun had fallen out of the thief's hand, the officer slammed her back into the brick wall. The thief kneed her in the gut, but the officer slammed the palm of her hand against the other woman's jaw. The thief cried out in pain, and the officer used that moment to swiftly turn her around, push her back into the wall, and cuff her, reading her her rights and informing her of the charges against her as she did so.
Once the criminal had been handcuffed, the officer turned around and began to push her back onto the street. She found the man waiting for her. "I need to get your name and phone number, sir." He was surprised to find that she used the same cold, hard tone with him, but he handed her a card nonetheless.
She took the card and pocketed it without ever looking at it. He watched her in silence as she directed the criminal to her car, put her in, and came back to collect the evidence. He continued to watch, his shocked mind still unable to form words, as she used a handkerchief to pick up the gun and put it into a plastic bag. She zipped the bag, put it into her coat, turned back, and was almost to her car before he finally managed to speak. "Officer! Officer!" he called out to her, and her steel blue eyes met his brown eyes. He never noticed the slight change in her facial features or the hard lump that rose in her throat as she looked into his face and remembered the only time in her life when she had ever been happy. "What's your name?"
"McPhee," she told him simply. She ignored the dropping of her beloved Pacey Witter's jaw as she jumped into her patrol car and slammed the door. Quickly, before he could recover from his shock, she started the engine and peeled away from the curb.
The green eyes of her prisoner looked into the reflection of her eyes in the rearview mirror. "Boy means something to ya, huh? Hurt you bad once, I take it?"
"Shut up," she growled, "or you'll never make it to prison." She slid her dark sunglasses back over her teary eyes and raced forward though she knew she would never be able to leave behind the pain of what she had lost years ago.
Pacey Witter stood in shock and alone on the curb, his brown eyes, which were now as round as saucers, staring at where he had last seen the patrol car. He couldn't believe that that hardened cop had been Andie -- his Andie McPhee. His crying heart hammered in his chest, pleading with him to go after her, but he knew he couldn't for she had finally gone far beyond him. Tears filled his eyes, and for the first time since he had lost her, he didn't try to hide the tears she caused for in that short time he had been reminded of a lesson he'd finally learned three years back when he'd finally let Joey go and had been unable to shed a single tear for her. He'd always loved Andie, and he would until the day he died.
The End