#lemansky

A/N: here’s a little Lem story for y’all. @blacklist-leppard

Your older brother Dutch was great. He was smart, he wasn’t too overprotective, he let you experience life with well-thought out advice.

You packed your clothes for your trip to see Dutch in California and as you got into your car, a sense of wonder filled you. For some reason, you felt like this trip would be different.

“Hey Holland! It’s me! I’m leaving from Stockton right now! I’ll be there in like two or three hours, did you need me to stop and pick up anything?” You ask as you merge onto the expressway.

“Nah, can’t think of anything. How long you staying?” He asks.

“Probably only a few days.”

“Why not stay two weeks? Just come out here, relax. Maybe even meet a couple cute guys?” He chuckles, and you could imagine him wiggling his brows at you.

“oh Hol, I—“

“I insist. Who knows, maybe it’ll be good for you. Stockton is so different from here, you know that. We’ll hit a couple good restaurants. I’ll introduce you to the team I work with since you didn’t get to meet them last time.” He cheers. You hear a muffled shout in the background and then your brother says. “..piss off Mackey.”

“Alright, well I’m gonna go, I’m getting into heavy traffic.” You laugh. “Love you!”

“Love you too, drive carefully.” He murmurs before hanging up.

As you pull off the expressway, you pull into a gas station for a drink. A cute blonde holds the door as you walk in, and you glance over your shoulder and smile at him. He grins back, waving a little hand to you before he gets on his motorcycle and drives away. Nibbling on your knuckle, you try to hide the smile as you grab a drink and a snack. The cashier had noticed the exchange and greets you with a smile.

“Hi darlin’, you from around here?” She asks, chewing on her gum as she scans your second item. You shake a no.

“Nope, just visiting my brother. He works at the ‘Barn’ here in Farmington.”

“Ah! You’re in luck then, the cute blonde works there too. On the strike team.” She giggles.

“Well thank you.” You smile, nodding as you head for your car.

As you pull into the Barn, you park next to Holland’s car and head to the door. You shoot a quick text to Holland telling him that you’re at the front door. You’d never been here before, as time never permitted it for you and Holland was always off work when you went to visit. When your brother comes into view you can’t help but jump in excitement six months was a long time without seeing him and here he was in front of you.

“Holland!” You call, and the door buzzes open for you. Running to your older brother with open arms, he grabs you and squeezes tight.

“I missed you so much.” He coos, taking a moment to breathe.

“I missed you too.” You smile, leaning back to see how long is hair had grown out.

“Well well, lookie here. Dutchboy has a girlfriend!” A voice chortles behind you. Letting go of your brother and looking behind you, you find a man average height, stocky and bald grinning at your brother.

“Girlfriend? No. His sister.” You bark, glaring at him with arms crossed over your chest.

“Oh shit! Dutchboy has a sister?” He mocks looking surprised when three other men come up behind him. One is a little taller than baldy, with dark almost black hair. The second, also dark hair, his more brown, and a mustache. “Boys! Dutchboy’s got a sister!” The man announces, and the ebony-haired man grins wide, his gums showing. “How are you related to Dutch. He got a different dad?” The man asks, still remanence of a grin on his lips.

“Nope. Full blooded siblings.” You smile annoyingly.

“Wow, so your last name is Wagenbach too?”

“That’s correct.” You nod, lips pursed and eyes rolling.

“Damn, well you know what they say, second time’s the charm.” He laughs, a few quiet laughs echoing. Reaching out, you crack a hand across his face and stomp a foot.

“You’re parents must be real proud of their son being a bald-headed bully. You’re what, twelve? Grow up!” You bark, twisting on a heel and walking over to your brother’s desk and having a seat.

“What a prude, I was just pokin’ a little fun. Jesus.” Vic groans as the strike team files into the clubhouse.

“Well clearly she didn’t think it was funny. Just like ol’ Dutchboy she can’t take a joke.” Shane pipes in, and he and Vic chuckle.

“Well I mean, I’d get defensive if I didn’t know you guys too.” Lem mutters, rolling his eyes at their antics.

“Aw Jesus Lemonhead, you aren’t really crushin’ on Dutchboy’s sister, are you?” Vic whines, giving him a pathetic look.

“I mean, no. She seems nice that’s all.”

“She seems nice that’s all.” Shane mocks a little later as they walk through the main room. As they walk by Dutch’s desk, Vic is sure to kick his chair. Lem’s eyes meet yours for a millisecond and you grin at him.

“Hey.” Lem whispers.

The next day, Holland heads with you to the Barn really quick to grab something from his desk when the Strike team hauls in three guys, all whom appear to be thugs. “Everyone get the FUCK down!” One guy shouts, a gun in his hand. While Lem was headed for the clubhouse, he twists at the sound of a gunshot firing off and his eyes meet yours. Dutch ducks under the desk as the gunman points towards his desk. Lem’s heart slams against his chest and he dives for you, grabbing you and shielding you with his body. A shot rings and it hits the lower left side of his abdomen, through and through.

“Ow.” He groans, still covering you. “You okay?” He grits through his teeth.

“Yeah, are you okay?” You coo, your hand reaching up to cup his side.

“Yeah, just a flesh wound, babe.” He assures, pressing a kiss to your lips. He chuckles. You giggle, covering your face as the heat floods your cheeks. “I’m Lem, or Curtis.” He smiles, letting you pull him down for another kiss.

“Hey, so tell me something.”

“What’s that?” He responds as he pulls you to your feet.

“If I were to ask you for your phone, could I just put my number in for you? You’re gonna need it anyway to ask me on a date.” You smile, slipping his phone from his hands and tapping away on his keyboard.

“Lem, get your stitches bro.” Ronnie calls, chuckling at Lem’s far off half-grin.

“Hey, you headed out for the night?” Lem props himself against your desk.

“Yeah, why?” You ask softly, your lust-filled eyes meeting his dark blue ones. You might not have mentioned you and Lem always see each other after work.

“I’ll swing by, and we can go over that case again.” He winks, leading you towards your car.

The series of knocks let you know that Lem was there and you sprinted to the door, giddiness prominent in your peppy little sprint.

“Lem!” You cheer, jumping into his arms and kissing him harshly. He stumbles into your house, holding you against the wall as he pressed hot kisses down your neck and chest, removing your clothes as he went.

“Baby girl, you look so good.” He hums against your tummy, the action sent chills down your spine. Your fingers grab hold of his hair and tighten on it, burying your face on his shoulder.

“Lem.” You hush, rolling your body against him. He gives a moan, dragging you to the bedroom before diving into you.

His hips grind a steady rhythm into yours as he holds a breast in his hand, massaging and kissing your peaks.

The next day, as you were on the street with your partner Regan, a gun shot echoes, and Regan falls into your arms.

Her arms flail as you take her to the ground, holding the bullet wound tightly. An ambulance was called and you were pulled away from your partner, numb and scared. You drive back to the Barn in silence. Claudette’s Eyes were the first to land on you. You were a mess. Blood splattered across your face and a pool of blood on your uniform. You stumble to your desk, sitting down and pulling open some old case file.

“Aw shit.” Vic barks, heading towards you. “Lemonhead! Shane! Get out here!” He shouts, rushing to your desk. “Darlin’ you okay? Are you hurt? What happened?” His questions weren’t answered, you couldn’t speak. Lem’s eyes landed on you and his heart stopped.

“Oh sweet mother of god! Babygirl what happened?” He shouts as he sprints to your desk, dropping to his knees in front of you and spinning you to face him. “Baby, tell me who did this.” You hiccuped, the tears rapidly filling your eyes as he hugged you to him. “It’s okay. Tell me.” He whispers, pulling a napkin from his jeans pocket and dabbing a little water from your bottle onto it, wiping away some of the blood.

“Regan. How’s Regan?” You hush, gripping tightly to his shirt and hugging him closer.

“Regan got shot?” He asks.

“Yeah. Some guy pulled up, pointed at her and shot. Then drove off.” You sob, letting him gather you up and carry you to the strike hangout.

“Tell me what he looked like? What did sound like? Did he say anything?” Quaking, you shake your head no and curl into his warmth.

“Lem, please stop talking and hold me.” You whisper, and he followed suit, holding you tightly against him. Smoothing your hair and leaving little kisses on your cheek. An hour later you figured you were calm enough to talk to Acevada about what happened.

“You sure? I can go with you!” Lem assures, standing and following you to the door.

“I got it.” You nod, patting his hands.

“Okay, I’ll be down here when you’re done.” He assures, pressing a warm, comforting kiss to your forehead.

“I’m sorry, Regan’s off. She can’t work street anymore. She’ll be in the office from now on. But you need to tell me what’s going on with you and Lemansky.” Acevada gives you a little smile.

“Nothing, he was just worried.”

“I carry my wife to bed like that every night. I even give her that look. The worry on her tired face. He loves you, how long?” He asks, catching you off guard.

“I’m sorry?”

“How long have the two of you been married?” He asks with a laugh.

“No no no! He was my partner in the field before Vic took him, we just fuck. A lot.” You

giggle, grabbing the office door.

“You two are physically involved?”

“Physically doesn’t even begin to describe it.” You laugh, walking out of the office and heading back to the Strike room, when Lem appears next to you. With a swift scoop, you were in Lem’s arms and he paraded you through the Barn. Dropping you to your feet, he leans in close to you.

“You sure you’re okay?” He hushes, slipping a single piece of hair behind your ear.

“Yes, Lem. I’m good.” You assure, grabbing his hand and squeezing it.

“Okay, sure. Yeah, I’ll see you later?” His blue eyes meet yours, pleading. You nod and smile, but he grabs your hand and drags you through the strike room and into the back hall, checking for people before he hauls you against the wall and kisses you harshly. “Dammit baby, I was so scared. Shit, I thought you were shot.” He breathes out as he comes in for another kiss.

“Lemansky if I could—“ Acevada swings open the door only to shut it and walk away.

You were part of the street team, often working with Dutch and Claudette on cases as their muscle. You currently we’re betting that you and Dutch could catch this guy before the Strike team, if you did, they’d have to get naked in the barn.

You longed to see your longtime rival Lemansky naked. Sometimes you fantasized of him whisking you away to the strike room and having his way with you. Your thoughts are cut short by Dutch’s eureka shout from his desk. You and Dutch piled into a cop car, barreling for the address. You see Lemansky and Vendrell approaching the front door. With a growl, you head to the back. You clear the first two rooms when the suspect takes off through a window, you and Lemansky start towards him.

“I can’t wait to see what you look like without the uniform,” he growls in your ear as he sprints passed you. Giving a huff, you push yourself harder sprinting passed him and tackle the man to the ground, cuffing him. With a jerk of his head, he headbutts you, jumping to his feet and starting off again. Lemansky stopped to make sure you’re okay before he heads towards the runner. As if out of nowhere, Julien jumps and tackles the man, Danny not far behind. When her eyes meet yours, you frown. You really wanted to see Lemansky naked.

“Damn.” You grumble, standing and wiping off the blood from your forehead.

“I think it’s fair that those two both go through here naked, for Christ’s sake Julien stopped the guy.” Danny barks, eyeing you and Dutch.

“I mean, Julien, its up to you. Both?” Aceveda asks, eyeing you and Dutch.

“Yeah, do it.”

“Officer, you and Lemansky are the lucky winners. You’re going through the barn naked.”

“What? I cuffed the guy!” You shout, waving a hand at the cage.

“Julien caught him. Therefore, Julien decided. I’ll let officer Lemansky know.” You slipped into the bathroom, stripping down naked. Danny peeks into the bathroom with a grin.

“We’re ready!” She cheers, waving you out of the bathroom.

“I did cuff the guy!” You try, but it’s useless.

“C’mon! Don’t be a sissy!” You grinned as you heard Lemansky shout from the squad room. “C’mon! I’ll come in there and drag you out!” He calls, and you cackle, taking a deep breath and opening the door. People were cackling and carrying on as Lem stood there, bare-ass naked and proud.

“Jesus Christ!” You grimace in embarrassment before you take off running towards the other room where Danny put your clothes. Lots of whoops and hollers let out, wolf whistling as you ran through. Lem’s eyes caught onto a scar that ran the length from your left shoulder blade and stopped abruptly at your right hip. You watched and giggled hysterically as Lem strutted across in front of everyone. Grabbing the center column, he does a stripper spin around the pole, shaking his ass in Dutch’s face before he headed into the room where you are. In just your sports bra and pants, you slide your blue dress shirt over your shoulders when Lem’s warm hand stops you.

“What happened to your back?” He hushes, pulling down the shirt to reveal the scar.

“I was attacked by a runner a few years ago. He had a switchblade in his pocket I didn’t know about. He cut half an inch deep from top to bottom. It’s no big deal, though. It healed okay.” You assure, shrugging his hand from your shoulder as you put on your shirt and give him a wink, heading out of the room. You stop at the door, look over your shoulder and a little smirk. “By the way, you look great without a uniform.” Before you head out to your car, once more met with cheers and hollers.

As you curl onto the couch with a wine cooler and take a drink, a knock sounds at your door. Your dog barks loudly, but you quickly hush her up before you look through the peep hole to find Lem standing there a smug look on his face. Opening the door, you greet him with a smile.

“What’s up? You still sore about losing?” You joke, widening the door to let him in.

“Nah, I didn’t lose anything. I saw you naked.” He winks, licking his lips.

“I guess we both won.” You try to hide the flush on your cheeks by taking another drink. Lem steps closer, hand cupping your cheek.

“I didn’t quite get a good look at you though, you wanna try it again?” He hushes, his lips a whisper from yours. You close the gap, crashing your lips to his. He tasted of sweetness and peach schnaps, you tasted of strawberry and mangos, and he couldn’t get enough.

“Oh no, we do this right.” You disappear, stripping out of your pajamas. You strut into the living room, finding him standing there naked. Your hands find his bare chest soft and warm, his mouth leaving hot kisses across your collarbone.

“It took everything in me not to drop you on the table in the squad room. You’re gorgeous. Jesus, you’re so hot.” He hushes, peppering your tingling skin with kisses. You jump into his arms and he holds you against the wall with one arm, the other arm directing his throbbing cock into you. Groaning, you roll your hips into his and your lips seek out his. He tasted like you thought he would. You were sweeter than he’d ever fantasized.

“Is this really happening?” You huff out, pressing your forehead against his shoulder.

“Only if you want it to.” He assures, nosing your chin up to meet his eyes.

“I do. Table. Kitchen table.” He carries you to the table, laying you down and making sweet, hot love to you.

As you stepped into work, Dutch’s eyes fall to the dark red marks on your throat.

“You have a good night?” And as if on cue, Lem’s arms sneak around you and he buries his nose into your neck.

“Oh she did. A great night.” He growls into your ear, sliding his arms from ‘round you as he saunters to the strike room. Looking over his shoulder at you, already a mess of nerves at seven a.m., he gives you a sweet wink as his eyes look you up and down. Biting his lip, he pushes open the door and disappears.

“I guess that answers that question.” You state, shrugging and heading to your desk.

“Jesus christ.” Dutch coughs, not sure what he’d just witnessed.

“See ya after work, babygirl.” Lem taps your desk with two fingers as they head out.

“Yeah, I guess so.” You agree.

WARNING: CONTAINS GRAPHIC CONTENT AND LOTS OF CRAZY MADNESS! Be careful please :) enjoy some Lemansky

This is super long, super graphic, and might cause problems. It’s traumatic and GRAPHIC> YOUVE BEEN WARNED!

She was an officer on the street force, Lem was her former partner who now worked on Vic’s strike team and you had to get a new partner.

“Hey! I’m out for the night, can you walk me to my car?” She asks, peeking into the Strike room. Lem looked up at her for a moment with concern but nodded.

“Everything okay?” He asks as he saunters next to her. She nodded, eyes not meeting his. His hand stops her from getting into the car. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing.” She waves it off and gets in.

“You’d tell me, right? I know we’re not partners anymore but you can still talk to me.” He smiles sadly at her. He could tell something was wrong.

“I know, Lem. It’s cool though. I’m okay.” She smiles, patting his hand that rested on the window frame.

“I’ll swing by in a couple hours. That cool? Just to check in on you.” He chuckles, patting her hand back. She nodded and bid him goodnight before she headed home.

Lem went back inside, his stomach flip flopped like a fish. A bad feeling filled his heart and stomach.

“Guys, I gotta go. I don’t have a good feeling. She hasn’t asked me to walk her to her car since that creepy guy was hanging out. I’m gonna head over and check on her. I’ll see you guys tomorrow.” He heads to his motorcycle, flooring it to her house. He was so nervous, his hands shook on the grips.

“Vivian?” He calls as he steps into the house. He hears a muffled word or two from the back of the house. “Vivian!” He shouts, trying his best to clear the room before heading towards the back of the house.

“Lem!” She got a shout out and he sprinted back to find the Armenian standing there, her hugged back against him, gun to her head.

“Shit, man.” He breathes.

“Your girlfriend says you don’t know her. She lied.” He shrugs, shooting her in the leg.

“No! Shit! Just let her go man!” He shouts, putting his hands up. The Armenian nods to someone behind him. Lem is tackled to the ground, hands bound with rope and the two are thrown into a van and driven somewhere.

When she came to, she smelled mustiness and a dim blue hue to the room. She looked to the corner of the room and saw Lemansky there, her heart sputtering as she noticed he wasn’t moving.

“Lem?” She whispers, scittering across the floor to him, pulling him up into her arms. “Shit, Lem I’m sorry.” She shakes his shoulders and he slowly comes to. “Oh shit, you okay?” She asks, hand cupping his cheek gingerly.

“Yeah, I’m okay.” He nods, hugging her gently. “Where are we?”

“Some kind of warehouse I imagine. The lighting in here sucks. They’ve been on the phone with some cop most of the time I’ve been awake.” She informs softly, holding to his arm. An Armenian starts walking towards the cage, unlocking the door and heading straight for her. The man grabs at her, but Lem kicks out a boot and connects with his calf, a groan escaping when something hits Lem in the back, electrocuting him and he drops to the floor violently shaking.

“You give us the money, we go away. Leave you and Lemon boy alone.” The man’s thick accent drawls.

“What money?” She asks, grabbing at the Armenian.

“Our money that Lemon boy and his cop friends took. Cletus? You know him?” He asks, showing her a picture of Shane.

“Yeah, I work with him. What money are you talking about?” He uses a scalpel and makes three little marks on her arm, pouring salt on them and rubbing them. She screamed in pain, the burning searing hot pain.

“Tell me about money!” He shouts in her face. She screams in pain as he continues to grind the little salt grains into her arm. She felt as if glass were being shoved into the wounds.

“I don’t k-kn-kn-ow anything!” She shrieks. He shakes his head, making three little marks on her other arm. Just like before he rubbed salt and sand into the marks, a little deeper and and little longer than the others. Blood trickled down her arms and she had almost lost her voice in the two hours they’d tortured her. He sliced a thin piece of skin from her arm, leaving a wide open wound, pouring alcohol all over it. Her arm was on fire and she screamed with all she had left. She could no longer find any strength, and sagged against the chain link fence defeated and tired. She was dragged back to the cell and tossed onto the cold cement floor. Lem rushed her, his eyes worrying over every visible inch of skin he could see. Unbuttoning his shirt, he pulls off his button down shirt and rips a sleeve off, wrapping it around the wounds on her arms.

“Christ Viv, I’m so sorry.” He whispers, hugging her to his warm body. She felt the warmth under her quaking fingers, but she couldn’t move, so she reveled in the warmth that she could feel.

Every day was the same, they arrived at some point to take her away, torture her, only for her to say the same thing over and over again.

“Please! Christ! I know where the money is! Let me show you!” He cries, fingers gripping through the fence. He pleaded for them to stop, threatened them, he cried for them to stop.

“We torture until Vic Mackey show up.” The man growls, taking out of his sight. He paced the cage back and forth, back and forth, wondering what they were doing to her. When they brought her back, she was sopping wet, much like a drenched towel, and mimicked the sound it made. He was quick to pull her wet clothes off, drying her with what was left of his button down before putting his white tee shirt over her. His stomach gurgled so loudly it woke her.

“Hey, how you feelin?” He asks, giving a sad chuckle.

“Could be worse I suppose.” She gives a small smile and the tiniest chuckle, which is met with hacking and coughing, spitting out white foamy substance.

“They give you a shower back there?” He asks, holding her tightly against his own body to share what little body heat he had left.

“Water boarded, want money. Know anything?” He shook his head against hers.

“Nah, you okay? They dropped off a couple bottles of water for us. If you can handle it.” He whispers, brushing his cheek against hers.

“Yeah, could use some.” She whispers, hugging his warm torso. “You remember the time when we went to investigate that murder of a guy and his—“ She started to cough so hard against him that he had to hold onto her.

“And the guy was alive? Holed up in his backyard? You took off after him and tackled his big ass. When I got there you had that poor guy crying.” He chuckles, and so does she. She pats his knee in thanks. They drifted in and out of consciousness the rest of the night. As the morning light peeked through the window way above their heads waking up Lem.

“Viv, wake up.” He whispers, shaking her a little. She snorted and he agreed. What did she really need to be up for? A man reached through the fence, grabbed Lem’s arms as another man grabbed her and dragged her from the cage. They removed Lem’s shirt and and tossed it back into the cage with him. “What are you doing? Where is she?” He shouts, knuckles white from gripping so tightly. The man didn’t respond as Lem grabbed the shirt from the ground. He could hear her screams, hear something smacking something. Almost sounded like she was being whipped. “Man why don’t you let her go? She didn’t do anything! Just let her go!” A scream echoes through the building and he cringes.

“You tell us where money is, we stop torturing girlfriend.” The man drones before disappearing. He was a caged animal, wound for sound. He made a plan of attack when they brought her back. He dives through the door as they drop her on the floor. He jumps the man, knocking him on the floor and biting his ear off, spitting it on the floor. His fists hit the man’s face relentlessly until he is pulled off and thrown into the cage. The door slams shut, a taser hitting him in the back, leaving two half-dollar sized welts on his shoulder as they left them.

“Lem, shit.” She whispers, she sounded so tired and weak. His heart broke. As he regained his muscle function, he pulled her close to him. She hissed in pain and when he saw what he’d touched he vomited. Of course nothing but water came up, but he couldn’t help but gag. Her back looked like raw meat that wasn’t quite ran through the grinder.

“Dammit!” He shouts, pulling her gingerly over to lay on top of him, flattening the rest of his button up and ripping it up to cover her back. “I’m so sorry. Shit, Viv. I knew something was up. Why didn’t you tell me someone was following you? You knew!” He hissed, but she couldn’t hear him. She was completely gone for the next few hours. They appeared one more time, dragging her away from him. One stayed in the cage, kicking and shoving him, punching him into unconsciousness. As they brought her back without earlobes, Lem was groggy. He thought he saw blood running down her neck, but he couldn’t be sure. He wrapped the last scrap of his shirt around her head like a headband, using a button to fasten it.

“I’m sorry, Viv. Christ I’m sorry.” He sobs, rocking her gently as he breathed softly and slowly, finding it so hard to breathe. He was sure they’d busted a couple ribs. “Viv,” he whispered, smoothing his thumb across her cheek.

“You remember, Lem, when that guy shot you in the shoulder?” Her voice wasn’t more than a whisper, he wasn’t sure he’d really heard her.

“Yeah, told him,” he winced in pain. “Told him he was an asshole and the next time he’d better have good aim. You were pissed that I didn’t tell you until I got it checked out.”

“You bled,” she took a shaky breath. “All over the car.”

“Yeah, I remember. You told me the next time you were gonna make me walk to the station if I didn’t tell you.” He chuckled, grabbing his sides.

“Yeah. Love you, Lem.” She hushed, pressing a trembling hand to his cheek.

“Pineapples,” he whispers, grabbing her hand and holding it against his cheek.

“Pineapples.” She whispers, sagging against him. He heard the sound of lots of trucks running, the Armenians were leaving. In his heart, something broke. He listened to the shallow breaths she sucked in and prayed someone would find her.

“Lemansky! Vivian!” Lem was sure he was hallucinating. It was seven days without food or enough water. He gave a sad laugh. This was it. He was sure he would die soon.

“Lem? Lem!” Shane stood in front of him, a whole squad of people standing behind him. Lem pulled his tee shirt over her sleeping body and pushed her back against the wall and stood in front of her. “Lem? It’s Shane and Vic, we got you buddy.” He assures, busting the lock off the door and welcoming Lem and Vivian to leave. The big blonde’s legs gave out from under him and he crawled to her and shielded her body with his own and fell into unconsciousness.

“It’s okay, I’m sorry, Viv.” He whispered. Shane and the whole squad watched on in shock. Even in his unconsciousness he tried to shield as much of her as he could. He no longer had a shirt on, his back covered in burn marks, cuts, and bruises.

Shane pulled her away from him, but his elbow swung out and hit him in the nose.

“Damn man! It’s just me, dude!” He grabs her arms again, and this time Lem’s eyes blink open for a second, and Shane’s hand rests on his shoulder. “I got her, man.” Lem’s head hit the concrete and Shane carried her from the warehouse.

“Shit! Her back man! Her back!” Vic shouted while he watched as Shane pulled her from the cage, and Vic reached for Lem’s arm.

“Lemonhead, it’s me. I’m gonna get you on your feet now, okay?” He asks, patting the blonde’s arm as he pulled him to his feet. The minute Vic and Ronnie got him pulled to his feet he tumbled forward, heading for the ambulance. “Lem! Let us help you!” Vic calls as he runs to grab him before he falls again.

“Viv! I need Viv! They’re gonna hurt her!” He calls, jogging towards the leaving ambulance. He lands on his knees, shouting at the ambulance. “Vivian! I’m sorry! Vic, man. Vic. They hurt her so bad.” He cries, grabbing his bald leader’s arm and helping him pull himself up.

“I know, Lem. It’s gonna be okay. Go over here with me. Let’s get you checked out so you can go see her. Hmm?” He asks as he leads him to the second ambulance.

“Okay. She’s safe? She’s in the ambulance, right?” He asks as they sit him down.

“Yeah, bud. She’s safe. In the ambulance. Quit worrying right now. Focus on being safe.” Vic assures, patting his arm. His phone rings and he answers, walking away from Lem for a minute.

“It’s Shane, man. They say she’s pretty banged up. Can you ask Lem if he knows what they were rubbing into her cuts?” He asks, and when Vic’s eyes meet Lem’s nervous ones he groans.

“Lem, Shane’s with her. He needs to know what they were rubbing in her wounds.” He calls as he heads back over.

“Salt and sand.” He calls back, gripping the edge of the gurney.

“Damn, alright.” He puts the phone back to his mouth. “He said salt and sand.”

“Alright cool. Does he know what they whipped her with?”

“You know what they whipped her with?” Vic asks, sitting next to the tech on the bench seat as they close the bus doors and head for the hospital.

“Nah, I couldn’t see her. It sounded thick and plastic-y though. Like maybe a plastic coated cord of some sort. Ya know? She’s rough, man. Is she gonna make it?” He asks, grabbing Vic’s forearm.

“Yeah, she’s gonna be fine.” He assures, “said it could be a cord of some sort, it sounded plastic-y when it hit her.”

“Okay, last question, her lungs were full of water.”

“They waterboarded her.” Lem chokes on a sob, remembering how tattered she was in his arms. Vic repeated the information to Shane.

“Shit guys, I wanna kill these Armenian assholes.” The Georgian growls, and he punches the wall in her hospital room. “They’re currently stitching her earlobes and the biggest cuts on her back. From there they treat her lungs and get her on a drip IV for fluids. Say about a week and a half she should be able to go home. Doc says she’s gonna need a lot of counseling. He also said to tell Lem good war doctor skills. Said if Lem hadn’t used his shirt she’d have bled out.” Shane hushes, not wanting Lem to overhear it.

“Yeah, glad that worked. Listen, we’re here now. Got Lem goin’ in for liquids and possible broken ribs. I’ll meet you up in her room in an hour.” Vic hangs up as they wheel the big blonde into a room.

“Vic! Tell her I’ll be up when I can! Tell her man!” Lem shouts as they pull him away from Vic. “No! I gotta see her! Please! They’re gonna kill her! Please let me go!” Lem shrieks, jerking at the restraints.

“Shane, go get a camera out of the truck.” Vic barks as he steps into the room. She almost seemed a zombie wrapped in so much gauze.

“A camera?”

“Yeah, so Lem can see her in his room. Put his mind at ease.” Shane disappeared, getting a video camera and attaching it on the wall opposite her bed.

They hooked it to the tv in Lem’s room.

“Hey kid, got ya a video camera, little stalker.” Vic chuckles, patting his hand. Turning on the tv, he hears Lem heave a huge sigh seeing her in the hospital bed on her tummy, her back covered in gauze.

“It’s okay, thank you a lot. It helps a little to see her. Sorry for acting so dumb earlier.” He whispers, eyes glued to the screen.

“It’s alright Lem. You saved her life, ya know?” Vic smiles a little. Lem’s eyes meet his darkly.

“No, I got her into this mess. They thought she was my girlfriend. Thought I told her about that train. They beat her to a pulp because of me, Vic.”

“No, Lem. They didn’t. Listen to me, okay? She was kidnapped by Armenian mob guys. We don’t know why, probably because we got the long-haired foot jesus and Armadillo. Okay? We’ll get to the bottom of this. Now you need rest. It’s been a long seven days, okay?” He asks, hand reaching for the blonde.

“Nah, can’t sleep unless she’s in the cell.” He mumbles as he falls asleep. “Need her in the cell. Need Vivian!” He shouts, jolting awake. His eyes fall on the screen to find her still there asleep.

“Sleep Lemonhead.” Vic whispers, patting his head and leaving the room.

She waited for Shane and Vic to come back impatiently. She needed to know what was happening to Lem. The minute the two entered the room she grabbed Shane’s arm and dragged him to her side.

“Where’s Lem? Is he okay?” She asks, gripping his hand so hard he groaned.

“He’s fine, got one cracked rib and lots of little burns from what looks like—“

“A taser.” She whispers, eyes filling with tears.

“Darlin’, don’t cry. Lem’s watchin’ you. We put in a little camera for him so he could see you. Said he couldn’t stay in his room without you.” Shane smiles, pointing to the camera on the wall. Her eyes look back to the camera and she gives a gentle, weak smile and a tiny wave. Grabbing her nurse call button, she pushes it gently to get assistance. A nurse appears moments later, concerned.

“Hi, I just need to be rolled on my back please. I can’t sleep like this. Please, at least call the doctor and ask?” She asks, grabbing her hand. The nurse’s eyes looked back to the door for a moment and she huffed softly. Shane gives her a wink, and she smiles shyly and nods to you.

“Let me change your dressings really quick and I’ll flip you.” She gives in and starts to pull gently the gauze from her back.

“Lem.” She whispers, giving Shane a look. He moves in front of the camera for a moment while her dressing is changed. Once they finish, she gets rolled onto her back. Wincing in pain, she moves a little to get comfortable before watching the nurse heading out the door. Shane follows close behind, telling her what a hero his friend was and how distraught he’d been to find them. She chuckles as the door shut.

“Vic, what’s going on?” She asks very seriously. He gave her a confused look. “You know what I mean, the money. They thought I was Lem’s girlfriend. Said you guys stole some money. I’m gonna guess it’s more than a hundred bucks.” She gives him a look.

“Look here, they got to you because of the foot stealing Jesus and Armedillo, nothing more.” He assures, patting her arm.

“Vic, they said your name. Vic Mackey.” She whispers, grabbing his hand. His eyes met the camera which looked back at Lemansky.

“I was a major part of the Armedillo case. Arrested the asshole and arrested the asshole that killed him. They were probably getting back at Lem for what the Strike team did.” He coos, giving her a sweet smile. “I’m really sorry about what happened to you and Lem. I’m gonna kill these bastards.” He assures, leaving the room. She pushed her call button once more, and the same nurse appeared once more.

“I’m sorry, I was just wondering if there was a way to call another room.” She whispers, tears filling her eyes.

“Sure! Here’s the phone, dial nine and then his room number. It’s three-two-eight.” She whispers as she hands her the phone. She waited, watched as the girl in the bed dialed, waiting to hear his voice.

“Hello?” He rasps, waking up to the ringing.

“Shit.” She whispers, a hiccup caught the tears in her throat and she cried like a baby. “Hi Lem.” She whispers, gripping the phone tightly.

“Hey, you okay?” His gruff voice was gentle and he sounded so tired.

“Yeah, I’m good.” She looks up to the camera, and he felt a tear slip down his face. His heart started to pound, he closed his eyes and felt the rush of being back there, the cool concrete under him, the cold metal fence against his hot back, raw from the burns there. “Lem, it’s okay. Open your eyes. Lemansky!” She barks, and his eyes flash open and meet the screen. She was looking back at him. “It’s alright.” She whispers, gripping the phone in a quaking hand. Tears tracking down her cheeks as she looked into the camera.

“I can see you, the tears.” He chuckles, sniffling. “Quit crying, it’s okay. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. How’s your back feel?” He asks, quickly trying to change the subject.

“It’s okay. Hurts in a few different spots but the doctors said it was mostly just swelling though. There’s a few gashes he said, but mostly just gonna be sore and bruise majorly. How you doing?” She asks, wishing so badly to see him. Her heart ached for him. For seven long days, the two of them were all they had and now they were separated and she felt anxious and scared.

“I’m good. One cracked rib and lots of bruising and burns from the stun gun shocks. I’m okay, though.Superficial shit if you ask me.” He chuckles.

“I wanna see you so bad.” She whimpers as she pulls the phone away from her mouth as she said it. He heard her though.

“I know, it’s okay. I’ll see you soon. I just know it.” He assures, hands winding in the blankets. He hears whispering on the other side and he starts to panic. “You okay? Vivian? What’s your room number?” He yells.

“Three-twenty-five. I’m okay. It’s just Dutch and Claudette.” She smiles, greeting the two and waving to the camera. Lem smiles at her, though she couldn’t see him her heart was at peace. “Pineapple.” She giggles. He retorts the same word, grinning at the grin on her face. “Bye, call you in a few.” She hung up and his heart rate spiked. A few nurses were brought it and they calmed him down.

“Lemansky, calm down.” He started to hyperventilate. His heart beat so hard and fast he couldn’t breathe. He kept sucking in, but he couldn’t breathe.

“Need Vivian. Need her. Armenians have her. In pain. Need her. No! Don’t touch her!” He shrieks, eyes squeezed shut trying to concentrate but all he could see was her being dragged away from him.

A nurse stepped into her room and grabbed her bed another nurse grabbed monitors.

“What’s going on?” She asks, concerned as Claudette and Dutch followed close behind. They wheeled her silently across the hall and down a few doors, popping open another door and let her into the room. Lem, her sweet partner, back arched off the bed and hands gripping the blankets. His teeth were clenched together so tightly, he foamed at the corners of his mouth, eyes squeezed shut. She gasped and sat up, her back aching and burning as she moved so quickly. She heard people talking in the background but all she could see was Lem. “Lem! Lem!” She shouts, grabbing his face.

“Lem! It’s Viv!” She shrieks, her hands framing his chin and pulling him carefully to her chest. “Breathe, breathe Lem.” She begs, hugging him.

“Viv? Did they hurt you? Are you okay?” He gasps, breathing in her warm sweet scent.

“Yeah, Lem. I’m okay. I’m okay sweet boy.” She coos, smoothing her knuckles across his cheeks.

“Darlin’. Shit. You’re okay?” He asks, heaving a few huge breaths.

“I’m okay.” She giggles. Lem slides over on the other side of the bed, patting the empty spot next to him.

“Lay down.” He whispers, pulling her carefully into the bed. He pulls her to him, cuddling her against him. Heaving a heavy sigh of relief, he whispers to her, like he’d done so many times the past seven days.

“Lem, tell me about the cock fighting you went to with Shane.” She hushes, her head resting on his chest.

“That was crazy. Shane did really good though. But he’s a redneck by nature. We infiltrated this cockfighting ring, with his prized rooster, and he won a few fights, lost a few. But I felt bad for the poor rooster.”

“Yeah, Lem wanted to to take them all home.” Shane calls from the door, making the room full of people chuckle. The nurses stood by smiling at their problem-solving abilities. Seconds after she heard Shane’s voice, she was sleeping soundly against Lem.

“Don’t wake her up.” Lem hushes, waving the group out the door.

“Lem, we gotta talk, man.” Shane whispers, eyes on her sleeping face while he spoke.

“No. We don’t. I’m gonna sleep. You can go.” The blonde nods, waving the brunette out of the room.

“No, man. We gotta talk about —“

“No, Shane. We don’t. This is my fault. Just please, go. I can’t lose her yet. Not like this. Let her heal first.” He whispers, tears filling his eyes as he thumbed her cheek.

“Lem.”

“No Shane! If we hadn’t gotten in this trouble, she wouldn’t be here like this. She’s traumatized. Doc says she may never return to the force. She may never trust another person ever. And I don’t wanna be part of the last group yet.” He growls, shutting his eyes and gripping the hemmed edge of her gown back.

“Lem? What are you talking about?” She asks, groggily coming to.

“Nothing, just some shit at work.” He chuckles, eyes meeting Shane’s in fear.

“Quit working, you’re still on leave.” She giggles, patting his chest to make sure he was still real underneath her.

A couple weeks droned on, the two barely were without each other. She found her best times were with Lem close enough to touch. She’d been severely traumatized. The first shower they tried to give her she went into shock. They had finally been put in an apartment together with a physical therapist and a psychologist who met with them once every other day. They were on twenty-four-hour surveillance.

“Shane, that money wasn’t supposed to get us into this kind of trouble.” Lem spoke low, as she wasn’t currently in the room and he didn’t know what she could hear.

“I know man, but we needed the money.” Shane argued.

“No! You and Vic needed it! I wanted it, but I didn’t need it. Now she’s in psychotherapy for what I did, what we did.” He growls, pointing a stern finger at him.

“Lem? What are you talking about?” She steps into the room, eyes wide and glossy with unshed tears.

“Oh shit, Viv. I—“

“The money?” She gasped, grabbing her chest. She sank to the floor and cried so hard her body shook. Lem tried to get close to her, but she shoved him away.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t want you to find out. I—-We.”

“Save it!” She screamed, grabbing her bag and heading out the door.

“Don’t go! Shit I’m sorry! Let me call someone to come get you!” He shouts, running after her.

“No! You’ve done plenty!” She cries and storms down the sidewalk. Lem sank into a corner of the room, arms hugged to himself, rocking back and forth. Shane watched him revert back to the mentality of the warehouse.

“Viv, Viv I’m sorry.” He whispers, crying as he rocked himself.

“Lem-“ He didn’t finish. He felt his heart break as the big, goofy blonde tipped sideways and laid flat against the floor, sobbing so hard and uncontrollable. Shane knelt in front of him only to be kicked back on his ass.

She went to the station. She didn’t know what else to do. She found Vic in the Strike squad room, filing some paperwork.

“You, Lem, Shane, and Ronnie.” She whispered, falling on the floor and heaving a sigh. She had no tears left to cry anymore.

“Hey—“

“I heard Lem. I can’t stay there.” She whispers, pulling herself onto her feet. Vic’s phone rang as he kneeled in front of her.

“Vic its Shane! Lem’s losin’ it man! Says he’s gonna turn himself in!” Shane shouts as his boot hit the pavement in the background.

“Well stop him!” He barks back, grabbing his keys and her and tossing her over his shoulder. He rushes out and gets into his car when he sees Lem come rolling in on his motorcycle. “Please, if you love him, go stop him. I have a plan to get this off our backs, I just need a little time. Please stop him.” Her eyes fell onto the blonde storming into the station. Taking a moment to breathe, she nods. She jogs to catch up and grabs his arm.

“Lem, stop.” She ushers him back to his bike. He pulls her tight against him, careful of her back.

“I’m sorry. Fuck, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it. I wish I never got involved. Please let me turn myself in and make it right. It’s my fault. All of it. I’m sorry.” He whispers, tears falling on her shoulder as he hugged her.

“Lem, it’s not on you. Okay? Let’s go back to the apartment and talk about it. Okay?” She asks, getting him onto the bike and clipping on his helmet. “Let’s go home. Okay? Let’s talk about it.”

“No, let me turn myself in. I just can’t live with this. I might as well have tortured you. I might as well have. Me. Whipped you, waterboarded you, beat you. You didn’t have aa clue. I tried to tell them, but they wouldn’t listen. They wouldn’t listen to me. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry. Viv, say something!” He cries, hands gripping her shoulders.

“Lem, let’s go talk about it at home.” She whispers, tears falling down her cheeks.

“You hate me.” He chokes out.

“Lem—“

“Do you?” He barks. Her eyes look at the ground. “Do you hate me?”

“I hate what they did to me. I hate what you did, but I don’t hate you.” She mutters. “The waterboarding, the torture, it brought us close, Lem. I do love you, trust me. After what we experienced together, you’re my night in shining armor. I’ll see you as my hero for the rest of my life.” She states, holding his hands in hers.

“You mean you love me?” He asks, eyes wide.

“Yeah, I love you.”

“Jesus, Viv. You love me? For real?” He asks. She grabs his cheeks in her hands and pulls him down to kiss him.

(This is a Lem story. I’ve got a few chapters written but y’all can chew on this til I get home😘 Lem is such a sweet little angel baby)

It was her first day, her big framed, green glasses sat on her nose, her dyed-blueish black hair pulled back into a bun, and a pink lipstick. She was a sight.

“Hey! I’m looking for Claudette, I’m tech analyst for the strike team.” She sticks out an eager hand to Detective Wagenbach, whom looked perpetually confused.

“Wow! You’re a bubbly ray of sunshine, aren’t ya?” He chuckles, shaking her hand gently before leading her to the Strike team office. She choked a little at the difference in the air. It smelled of too much cologne, a little bit smoky, but all over, it could have been worse she supposed. Placing her laptop bag on the round table in the center of the room, she starts to set up her laptop and workstation, when three men come bursting through the door.

Abruptly, the smiles disappear, and she’s left with a bad taste in her mouth. The one who came in first bald, round head, built pretty thick, she wasn’t really sure how he successfully could chase a fleeing purp, but her eyes flicked the second one, a little taller than baldy, but much thinner, big forehead, dark hair, and bright blue eyes, cute butt in the thigh-tight jeans, flaring over his cowboy boots. The last one stood the same height as the first, very average Joe looking, but that mustache, that was something.

“You have to be Nadia Concord, the analyst from upstate.” The taller of the three coos, sauntering over and sticking out a hand.

“Sure am! And you three? I wasn’t really briefed. Honestly they were probably just happy to get rid of me.” She mutters the last part, head tipping down.

“Well darlin’, I’m Shane, that’s Vic, and that’s Ronnie.” He gently lifts her chin with his index finger and smiles at her while introduces her to the others. With a soft smile, she quickly composes herself into her bubbly character once more.

“I’m Nadia, but you already knew that. I guess you’ve heard about me. Listen, I’m never late. I follow the rules, your rules or theirs, just let me know whose to play, but if it’s possible can I get—like— a desk or something?” She asks, fingers fumbling with the keys on her key ring.

“Have a seat here, we’ll get you a desk and be back in a jiff. But hey, why doesn’t Ronnie stay with ya? Or you good to stay alone?” Shane seemed to baby her, he was cautious with her so far.

“I’m fine, Shane. Thank you.” She laughs, patting his shoulder. They quickly disappeared into the main unit, hunting for her desk. As she’s scrolling through her laptop, the door opens. Jumping, she turns to the door to find a new face. He was much bigger than the other three, and blonde. Looked a lot like a surfer, but when he grinned at her she felt her heart pound.

“Who—uh—who are you?” Before they knew it the boys returned with a desk and a swivel desk chair covered in some kind of eighties lemon print.

“Lem! Look! It’s you on a chair, man! Way cool right?” Shane laughs, slapping the large man on the shoulder before flopping into a chair at the round table and cracking open a bottle of Mountain Dew, offering her the other.

“Oh Lem! That’s Nadia, she’s the tech analyst from upstate; an addition from Claudette. Nadia, this is Curtis Lemansky. Or Lem.”

“Or just call me lemon head. They all do,” he chuckles as he reaches for the next row of something cold in the fridge. Returning he follows Shane’s lead, flopping into the chair and bringing the soda to his lips. “Hey guys, so what’s everybody got planned tonight? I’m thinkin’ hit the bar after work, right? It’s Friday so, I don’t see an issue.” He starts off the conversation while the four chat, she works on the last few papers she needed to get done.

As an hour passes, she stands and disappears to the bathroom, when Lem speaks up.

“Hey, you guys think she needs her own corner of the office? I mean, she probably had a big space back up state, guys.” Lem states with a shrug. “Hey no worries, my idea, I’ll do it tomorrow morning before she gets here.” He chuckles, nose disappearing into the sports magazine.

“Alright, it’s five o’clock. I’ll see you guys Monday morning at seven, yeah?” She asks, swinging her laptop bag over her shoulder and grabbing her plaid shirt from the back of the swivel chair.

“Yeah! Have a good weekend Nadia.” Lem eagerly responds, standing and stuffing his hands in his pockets. “I’ll walk you out. Those two morons on the street team will probably mess with you since you’re new.” He nods, waving a hand to the door.

“Alrighty then, Mister Lemansky, show me to the door then.” She giggles, Shane giving her a thumbs up as Lem’s hand hovered a few inches away from her back as she walked out the door.

“Aye, the guys are all goin’ for beers later, why don’t you go home chill for a little while then meet us there? Or I can pick you up if you’re new around here.” He offers, awkwardly scratching his neck.

“I can drive myself, you text me the address and I’ll just map it when I get home.” She giggles, grabbing his arm and scribbling her phone number on his forearm before hopping into her car and driving out of the parking lot.

As Lem walks back into the room, the whistles and the claps cut loose.

“I’ll walk you out.” Shane drawls through his laughter, grabbing the chair arm.

“Hey man! Just trying to be nice to her.” Shane found it odd, as Lem didn’t even hear her make that little jab at upstate, but he was already so nice to her.

“You like her! You wanna bang her, man!” Shane cackles louder, and none of them hear her sneak in to get her water bottle from the table.

“No man! It’s not like that!” He barks, flopping onto the couch, slinging an arm across the back of it. “You have the biggest banging policy in here. I only hit Tigre, so clam up, dude.” She chokes on her saliva, hearing them chittering about the girls they’d banged. Lem’s eyes bulge when he sees her standing at the desk water bottle in hand.

“Sorry.” She mutters, skipping out the back door to the parking lot.

“Man, now she thinks I’m just trying to get in her pants. If she doesn’t come to the bar tonight, I’m blaming you, man.” He frowns, gathering his stuff and stuffing it into his locker.

“You guys up for a little home improvement? I think Lem’s right, guys. We should put her in a little section to be girlie. Ya know? Unless you wanna walk in and see something from ‘How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days’.” He laughs, earning a laugh from Ronnie, who pipes in with:

“I can’t believe you killed our love fern!” They all start laughing, and the three agree, Vic opts out, he was supposed to spend time with Corrine tomorrow and his kids.

“Cool, we’ll need some power tools and some extra wood, you guys bring whatever you got, I’ll bring all the other stuff and most of the wood.” Lem slaps them all on the back before sauntering out of the building.

“Can I run something past you?” You ask, dropping the case file on the table in front of him.

“I mean, I guess you’re not really asking, huh?” He laughs, cracking open the folder in front of him and focusing intently on it.

“I need your opinion. Who to question?” You and Lemansky had worked side by side on the force for a long time before Vic stole him away from you.

“I’d question the guy on the left. Looks like a roller to me.” You laugh together at the nickname the two of you had come up with. You sometimes missed your copy, huge partner. He wasn’t an idiot, but he wasn’t stone cold. The two of you did some great work together on the task force before you got moved to a desk with a new partner.

“I miss you sometimes you big sour patch kid.” You laugh, patting his shoulder.

“I miss working with you too.” He assures, giving you a nod and a smile. That dashing smile, how you loved it so. There it is! A eureka moment took place on her brows as she grabbed Lem’s arm.

“Lemonhead, you go in there. Tell him you’ll cut him a deal if he rolls on the partner!” You shout as you sprint the closest computer. He laughed but followed orders, he really did miss you and your crazy ideas. You were tiny but mighty, as he’d so righteously claimed you. You were his ‘little friend’, also a trademark in your career.

You burst through the door, holding a brick of snow and a dangerous smile. Lem stood back for a moment to watch.

“I told you man, you gotta roll on him.” Lem continues, watching the man stare wide-eyed at the brick on the table.

“You’re gonna tell me where Puentez is selling or I’m gonna have Lem do his worst. And trust me, it ain’t pretty.” You assure, looking to the big softy for a little support.

“Tell her man, I hate gettin’ violent. Last time, I got suspended for two weeks. Broke some guy’s arm. Ya know, accidentally.” He winks at you, and you just laugh. Lem gives him a minute, and when that minute’s up, he slams his fists on the table.

“Tell me man!” He growls, pointing a finger at him. You watch reminiscently, missing your partner more than ever. He always broke them, he always found pride in it, he also found confidence in it, and he always flirted with you while you worked. “Damn man, I really thought you’d give it up. I guess you go away.” He grabbed the arm of the chair and tipped sideways, dropping the kid onto the ground, hovering the toe of his boot over the kids knuckles.

“Okay okay! Puentez was setting up the arrangements at the diner on the one-niners side of town. Been dealin’ to a few minors, man! Always at the diner, man. I’m sorry. I’ll get straight, man!” He cries, eyes squeezed shut. Peering through one eye, he heaves a sigh. You and Lem exited the room, Lem grabbing you and swinging you around before planting you gently on your feet.

“That was so amazing! Wow, what a rush!” He cheers. Everyone on the ground looking on at the two partners having a moment. “Thanks a lot, munchkin. That was a lot of fun.” He coos, hugging you once more. He’d missed you more than he lead on, as he wouldn’t quit touching you now. His hands kept stupidly fumbling as the two headed downstairs with the suspects. Lem escorted the guy to the cage, you escorted the asshole selling to minors to the cage. Just once more, Lem grabs you up, throwing you on his shoulder and parading you through the office. Putting on a big show, you hug his neck tightly and laugh as the team cheers.

“Jesus Lem, just kiss her!” Dutch yells, and without a moment’s hesitation, Lem gives you a sloppy kiss.

“I miss you working as my partner, but I really miss that time we stuck out in that hurricane force shit and we got holed up in that shitty motel room?” You two laugh, still hugging him.

“I miss you two Lem.”

“I love you, tiny one.” He whispers, kissing you once more.

“Curtis.” You bark as he stands. He stops in his tracks, eyes wide meeting yours.

“Hey, sorry baby. You can go back to sleep. Vic called.” He assures, pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

“Yeah? Your phone didn’t ring. Who is she? Curtis, who is she?” You ask, sitting up and crossing your arm over your chest.

“Baby it’s not—“

“Yes it is. Is she pretty?” You sniff, wiping at the stray tears falling.

“Honey.”

“Don’t.”

“Honey, I promise you, baby. There’s no one but you. Now, I gotta head to work. I’ll see ya when I get home.” He assures, pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead, stuffing his feet into his boots and disappearing. You waited a good two hours, cooking a hot meal, and headed to the Barn. You arrived, are buzzed in immediately, met by Claudette and a dark haired man you’d never met before.

“This is Dutch, he’s my partner. What’s goin’ on Honey?” She asks, walking with you. You shrugged, gripping the doorknob and praying to see your blonde headed husband when Claudette’s voice stops you.

“He’s not in there.” She calls, eyeing you confused.

“Oh! He said he had to come to work. Is he out with the guys on the street right now?” Claudette’s Eyes net yours in sadness. You already knew the answer. He wasn’t. You heave a sigh to try to hide the tears as you step into the strike room and put the food in the fridge, flopping onto the chair. You too where Hispanic, dark hair and bright green eyes, but you were a little on the thick side. With wide hips and a big bust, he loved your body, even used to praise it like some kind of temple. You start to cry. Hours passed and you eventually couldn’t wait any longer. You figured there was enough to go home and pack.

“Baby, what are you doing here?” You heard him from behind you. When you turned, you were met by Lem, Shane, and Vic.

“What am I doing here?” You cough, and the laughing erupts from your throat. He watched on, confused and scared.

“What’s so funny?” He asks, a little smile on his lips.

“You might be enough man for two women,” you growl, jabbing a finger into Vic’s chest. “But he’s barely enough for one.” You turn to Lem, your hand cracking across his face. “You don’t get to stand there and ask me why I’m here. I brought you lunch because I THOUGHT you were working all night again. Clearly not.” You nip, grabbing your purse and heading to the door. You twist around once more, eyes meeting the blonde’s. “I hope she’s got a good pussy and at least knows how to cook.” With that you swiftly disappeared.

“Fuck, man.” Lem starts to pace the room, eyes jutting back and forth between Vic and Shane. “What do I do man?” He cries, heading to the strike room. Vic grabs his arm.

“You go home. You apologize. You tell her what you did, man. You tell her all of it. Tell her you’re sorry, that you’ll sleep on the couch. Maybe she’ll forgive you.” He pats the stressed shoulder of his coworker.

Lem slinked into the house, heart in his shoes. The rustling in the bedroom gave you away.

“Honey?” He asks, peeking in the door. You had two suitcases packed on the bed, you were zipping the final zipper. You didn’t say a word as you grabbed the handle of the bags. “Baby! No no no no.” He whispers, pulling the suitcases from your hands and sitting them to the side.

“No what?” You ask, eyes locked on the stain on his shirt, jaw clenched shut.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done what I did. I’m so sorry. I just, I’ll do better. I’ll be better. Just give me another chance, please.” His hands grasp yours, him crouching to meet your low gaze.

“Say it.”

“Say what?” He asks, chewing on the inside of his cheek nervously.

“Say it.” You demand.

“Say what?” He asks a little louder.

“Tell me what you did. I want you to say it out loud. Own that shit.” You growl, meeting his broken gaze for only a moment before averting your eyes once more.

“Honey.”

“Say it.” Your arms cross over your chest.

“I slept with another woman.” He whispers, a shaky breath leaving his lips.

“You didn’t sleep. You fucked another woman.” You seethe, meeting his gaze once more.

“Yeah, I know baby, I’m sorry.” He whimpers, rubbing his hands along the back of his neck.

“Tell me her name.”

“Honey, no.”

“Her name.”

“No, you don’t need to know it.” He assures, grabbing your hands.

“Name.” You nip.

“Tigre.” He breathes, grabbing his chest.

“The puta banging Hector?” You ask, eyeing him.

“Hey—“ he tries to say something but stops.

“What.” You dare him to keep talking. He grabs your upper arms and pulls you against him.

“I love you querida.” He hushes, nose against yours.

“No, you don’t.” You slam two fists against his chest as the tears fall from your cheeks. “You call her that too?” You shriek, stepping away and heading towards the door.

“No! I didn’t!” He cries, and you hear a loud thud. Glancing over your shoulder, you find him sitting on the floor on his knees. Knuckles resting on the ground, you watched as he started to cry. “I’m just sorry. I can’t say anything to make it better. I can’t take it back, but I would. I’m so sorry, I love you. I’m so sorry.”

“Please just let me go.” You whisper, but you watch him stand, dragging his boots towards you and wrapping his big arms around you.

“I can’t.” He hushes, falling apart. His heart no longer pounded quickly but loud and slow. He held tightly, heaving a sigh, the tears soaking your shoulder. “I’m sorry. I did sleep—fuck her.” He chokes the last two, he knew you needed him to say it. “And I’d take it all back, I love you so much. Please just, just stay. Let me fix it, baby. Querida. You’re my life.” You wrap your arms around his back and hug tightly.