The Other Side

When Scotty first met Kat Miller she’d come off as a tough, smart mouthed pain in the ass with a stubborn streak. In other words, she was a lot like him on the job, she didn’t take shit from anybody. She was a woman and he’d worked with women cops before, partnered up with Lil for years now. But if he were being honest, he’d always preferred going out with Vera or Jefferies, especially to the east side areas. Not because Lil wasn’t a good cop, she was. Better than him at times. But there was always something almost fragile about her, it made him take point more often than he would have liked. Lil would have had his balls if she ever knew that his insistence on being first was from a misguided protective streak and not from hotheaded excitement. But he couldn’t help himself. He was taught to respect women, take care of them first and foremost. That shit didn’t just go away because he wanted it to. And he wasn’t sure it should anyway.

But Kat was different. She had a firm handshake and 5’6 frame that was all curves and tight muscle. But it was that look in her eyes that told him this chick was hard core. That she could take care of herself because she’d done it before. Kat always scored higher than him at the shooting range and could drink him under the table without blinking an eye. It fucking impressed him. Which could only mean she loved a nice set of tits as much as he did right?

"You’re a fucking moron Valens." Her words were barely slurred as she nursed her seventh beer.

"What—what do you mean, I know you saw that blond’s…they were like—" he held out his hands to illustrate and watched her laugh until tears filled her eyes. He knew he’d made an ass of himself, but the drunken haze took some of the sting off his error, made him order another round even. Lil had shaken her head at both of them and asked if they wanted a ride home and they just laughed some more. Kat took his arm as they stumbled out into the street, like two scolded kids bonded by their bad behavior. It was the most fun he’d had in months.

Scotty realized a few things that night. Kat might be hard ass, but she was as straight as he was. And she was his friend.

He realized that too.

***

Kat wasn’t a woman who trusted easily. Growing up in Kensington had been one long clusterfuck of a struggle to get out. To make something of herself. And she’d done that for the most part, though the slip with Jarrod made her question that sometimes, how far she’d actually come from her past. Sleeping with a gang member while undercover didn’t really put a win in her fucking column. It was a stupid, reckless thing to do, and something she’d never done again. But she refused to regret it, even for a second. Because it have her Veronica.

She’d been two seconds from clocking Vera when he smoked that shit out. She didn’t want everyone knowing what happened, what she’d done. Working narcotics had been an adrenaline rush sure, but when the shit went down with Jones she wanted out. Couldn’t take the stares anymore. She’d jumped at the chance to work homicide, and not just because of the higher pay and better snack machine. She needed quiet. She was sick of slapping handcuffs on children who stopped giving a shit before the hit Jr. high. Their eyes, mostly dark and haunted like hers, were dead when they looked at her. They’d given up. And she knew that if something didn’t change, she probably would to.

So she worked cold murders, spoke for the forgotten. She formed a tentative bond with her fellow police. Lily Rush was blond and thin as hell, but tough as nails for a white chick. Maybe the toughest she’d ever met. She didn’t talk much, but when she did, Kat listened. Because what she said was usually pretty damn important.

"These people look to us for peace. We help them sleep at night." Lily said the words as they watched a mother walk away from them in tears, the body of her daughter dug up being an old school house ten years after the fact. The girl was killed by her teacher, who Kat arrested in front of his now grown children and heartbroken wife.

"Yeah, but they don’t get it do they?" Kat said as her eyes caught the woman’s shaking hand. "I mean, her daughter’s still gone."

"It’s about closure Kat." Lily turned away, began to walk to her desk. "Not being stuck in the same moment anymore. You’d be surprised at how much it helps, the knowing. She can let go now. Put her kid to rest."

Kat never questioned what they did much after that. Because for the first time, what she was doing meant something besides a paycheck and money for the light bill. She’d been a cop for years, but it was the only time she felt like she was helping someone besides own damn self.

Nick Vera was an ass, but he had a big heart to go with his increasingly widening frame. He was white and nosey, and gossipy as a bitch, but he cared about her. And was a damn good partner when it counted, even after she told him about Jones and what she’d done. She’d taken him for one of those racists, sexist assholes she’d have to butt heads with, but he wasn’t that at all. Hell, he was even dating a sister, something she was sure to give him shit about every chance she got. She was her after all.

"You know once you go black Vera..." she met his irritated glare with a wide smile, and he shook his head at her before turning back to his desk.

"Go to hell Miller, you’re just jealous because I didn’t ask you first."

Will Jeffires and John Stillman were the vets on the force, they’d pretty much seen it all and then some. Kat found herself in awe of them sometimes, though she tried to hide it of course. Jeffries was black like her and worked murders longer than the rest of them combined. He was a big man, with an easy smile that gave no hint of the shit that he’d taken through the years, his time in Nam. His wife’s death. He reminded her of a father, not the one she had but the one she’d always wanted. One that maybe would have given her the strength to push Jones away that night, walk out stronger. Maybe. Too bad she would never know.

Lt. Stillman was her boss, and ex-miltary though and through. He’d also taken a chance on her, seen something in her that she hadn’t seen herself. She was thankful to him for so many things, taking her out of the line of fire, giving her chance to tuck her daughter in at night. But most of all for giving her a second chance, to do things right this time. To give peace to those who couldn’t sleep at night.

These were her colleagues, her fellow police. And she slowly began to trust them with her life. To back her up when the guns came out. They were good police, all of them and she felt lucky to sit next to them everyday.

But they weren’t her friends. Not really.

She didn’t let them in too much, having gotten burned so many times in the past. But one of them crept up on her, got in when she wasn’t looking. Kat wasn’t sure how it happened, only that when it did, she didn’t mind so much. Scotty Valens was the last person she’d thought she’d turn to for anything, even change for the damn coffee machine. He was too handsome to have it rough, too much of an ass to listen to anyone, let alone a woman. And yet that’s just what he did, those late nights at the bar when the squad went out after closing a case. Everyone else would slowly fade out, say their tired goodbyes, until it was just them. Empty mugs between them and AC/DC playing on the jukebox. They’d talk about their day, their times growing up. Shared a cab on a number of occasions. Until he stopped being Valens, her hard headed coworker with a mean stubborn streak and just became Scotty. Scotty, who knew exactly what kind of burger to order with her beer, and could outrun her chasing down a perp any day, though she’s never admit that to his face.

Scotty. Who somehow in the few years they’d worked together had become her best friend.

***

Looking back, he couldn’t quite find that moment when things started to change between them, they just kinda did. They hung out a little more than they had before, started talking on the phone more often, about things that had nothing to do with the case they worked that day. Like the latest in his string of fucked up relationships, a streak he hadn’t quite been able to shake. He loved women, the way they smelled, how soft they were. But he’d yet to pick one that stuck, something that was probably more his fault the ladies that had come and gone.

"You like walking wounded." Kat said over the phone as he flicked the channels of his television. It had been a week since he’d found out about Frankie, that she was married and not too eager to change that anytime soon

"The hell you talking about?" Scotty said and he heard her sigh on the other end of the phone, her daughter laughing in the background.

"Scotty, you like saving folks, it’s why you became a cop."

Scotty considered her words as he stopped at a college hoops, sitting the remote on the couch beside him.

"Yeah, so." He said and Kat called out something to Veronica, before returning to the conversation.

"So, I think you’re letting that get mixed up in your game. I swear you can sniff out a head case a mile away."

"They weren’t all crazy."

"Keep telling yourself that slick."

He thought about what she said the rest of the night, that he looked for women the same way he chased down a perp. Knew that there was probably something to that, he’d stopped looking at folks like a civilian a long time ago. But he’d never liked sleeping alone, especially not in his line of work. Fucking was always nice, but it was the soft hair against his cheek, the warm breath at his neck afterwards that made the job easier to take. Gave back some of the hope he’d lost when they found a kid’s body or had to tell an older sister that she was an only child again. He’d thought maybe he had that with Frankie. Hated that he’d been proven wrong.

He couldn’t sleep that night. He thought about calling Kat again, but decided against it. She had a kid. And it wasn’t her fault that women were still a damn mystery to him. One of the few he’d still been unable to solve.

***

She couldn’t remember the last time she let a man touch her, or let things get far enough for that to even be possible. Things just weren’t the same after Veronica, which was probably a good thing. Back then she let her hormones do the walking. She’d loved sex, the dirtier the better. Beds were nice, but not a necessity. Hell maybe she still loved it, but the few times she’d relented, decided to scratch that urge she got now and again were followed by regret, frustration for wasting her time. Sex with a stranger just didn’t hold the appeal it once did, no matter how pretty a face happened to be. She’d grown up—had to when she became a mother. And frantic fucking in the backroom just felt like something a child would do.

Scotty’s parade of women though the department rarely fazed her, but lately she’d been slightly resentful of the constant ass that seemed to drift his way with little to no effort on his end. Yeah, he was pretty, dark eyes and hair, with that whole alpha, angry fuck vibe going for him that would have appealed to her at some point, but that was before. Now she gave him shit for the path of pussy he laid waste to, all the while cursing him for being something she couldn’t. She didn’t want that anymore, but it was damn lonely sometimes, being the new improved version of her former self.

Which was why when he’d looked at her that night in the car, after she’d asked him to save her from yet another failed blind date, she’d considered it. He’d given her shit before saying she was a catch. Then gave her a look that lasted just a little longer than it should have. And the thought snuck up on her, how easy it would be to close the distance between them, slide onto his lap and press her back against the steering wheel. She looked away pretty quickly after that and fell into their usual rhythm, made him grin before pulling out into the street. She’d been sure he hadn’t picked up on her brief moment of what if, until she was leaving the car, caught a glimpse of him as she turned to shut the door behind her. Those angry fuck eyes were locked on her hips, his hand clenching the steering wheel. And then she felt it again, for the first time in years, she felt that need. For the frantic, bed optional fucking she’d thought she’d got out her system.

Kat murmured her goodbye and blamed it on the beer. Figured maybe they were spending too much time together.

***

He couldn’t look at her the same after that. Before she was just good police, someone he could talk to and hang out on occasion. She was funny as hell and made him laugh, gave him shit when his head got to big. But now she had curves, hips that his hands wanted to feel and he had no idea what the hell to do with that. He’d wondered if he imagined that look she gave him in that car. He sure as hell didn’t imagine his reaction to her climbing out of that seat, her dress all twisted and tight in the back. He was sportin’ wood by the time he got home, jerked off like some fucking teenager that got his first peak of a damn nipple.

It didn’t make sense. None at all, what she was doing to him.

What happened after made it even worse. It was like they were both determined to prove that everything was normal. So they still hung out, drank too much after the job, shared a cab when they were low on cash. But there was a low hum inside him, growing louder every time her hand brushed hers or her tits shifted inside her sweater. He wanted to get her alone, but was real careful not to. He’d end up doing something that would only get him cold cocked in the jaw and a sexual harassment suit.

He tried other women, even took back Frankie, who despite her shortcomings could fuck like nobody’s business. But his heart wasn’t in it. He didn’t even bother to make her come, just pushed himself out of bed when it was over. She thought it was her, and maybe it was, that’s what he let her believe anyway. He knew better though, figured that this wasn’t just about scratching a damn itch. It was about Kat. It was about wanting something he shouldn’t fucking have.

She’d bite her lip. Tap her fingers against her mouth and he’d want to kiss her. He couldn’t concentrate at work, hated going out on the street with her because he couldn’t think straight, started missing shit that he’d normally catch right away.

It had to stop. He knew that. One way or another, he had to set things straight again.

***

He kept saying he wanted to talk to her alone and she kept putting him off like the damn coward she was. The last thing she wanted was to admit that she’d even considered going there with another cop, especially one with man-whore tendencies. It was such an obvious damn mistake, anyone could see that. Scotty was a "fuck and run" kinda guy, and though her body seemed more than okay with that fact, her head kept reminding her that she was a mother. And good mothers don’t fuck and run, no matter how much they wanted to.

They circled each other. Did the job. Tried not to stare too long, and it was working for the most part. Then she got the call. Jeffries had taken rounds in the chest, was in intensive care after a botched store robbery of some kind. It wasn’t the first time someone in house had taken a bullet, hell she’d taken one herself. But it shook her, just the way it always did. And she could tell Scotty was reeling too.

"This is fucked." He ground the words out as he turned the wheel, sent their car flying past a corner. They got a lead on the possible shooter, and she’d volunteered to go with him to check it out. For a number of reasons, one of which was the dark look in his eyes back at the station.

"Calm down." She said and he glanced at her. His hands were almost white on the steering wheel as he shook his head and grimaced, his face tight as they came to a stop in front of the run down building. They looked up at the windows above in silence before their eyes found each other, not looking away for the first time in weeks.

"This is fucked Kat." The words were softer, but the anger still just as palpable. And she nodded in agreement.

"Yeah. It is."

Everything went down clean, if not a little rougher than usual. They questioned the woman and her son, and gave her just enough shit to know they meant business. Kat was a ball of energy afterwards, adrenaline mixed with anger, and sadness. A combination that had her hands shaking, her body craving a cigarette, though she gave that up a while back. It was still there even after they got the all clear on Jeffries, and she’d decided to wait after her shift, wanting to be there with Lily and Scotty brought the perp in. The boy. Their shooter was just a fucked up kid, like she had been. But he was also a killer.

She didn’t realize she was worried until she saw them walk in—saw him walk in. The kid cuffed and dejected. Lily’s eyes darting around the room, but seeing only god knows what. She’d heard about the shots fired on the scene, and was glad to see they got out clean. But after the paperwork was put through, Scotty came to her, asked if she could go for a drink afterwards.

"I gotta get back to my kid." She said the words reluctantly and he gave her a quick nod before backing away. Her hand reached out reflexively, but only grazed the sleeve of his jacket.

"Scotty."

"See you tomorrow Kat."

***

He didn’t want to lose her.

They barely spoke at work, avoided each other when they could. And it was fucking killing him, how messed up things were now between them. She would greet him, say goodbye at the end of the day. But it wasn’t the same. They weren’t the same.

And he didn’t want to lose her.

He broke down two weeks later stopped her on her way out to her car in the police station parking lot and asked her to got out for drink. Just like they always did before.

"I don’t think so Scotty." She still wouldn’t meet his eyes, something that made him grab her, crowd her against the car. The old Kat would’ve handed his ass to him for that, but she just looked up at him and waited. Which pissed him off even more.

"You think this might hurt us. This thing we have, because I wanna fuck you?" he said, and her mouth tightened.

"Yeah." She said finally, and he gave her a rueful smile.

"Like what? We won’t talk anymore? Can’t hang out, have a beer, shit like that? Things might get fucked up at work, we get distracted…"

"I get it." she interrupted.

"Get what Kat?"

"That it’s already—that we’ve already.."

"It’s already happened." He said. And then he kissed her. It was hard and angry, but she responded in kind. But then, that was Kat. Always in-step beside him. Never giving an inch. Kat, who had the sweetest fucking mouth he’d ever tasted.

"What does this mean?" she said. And he pressed her against the car, gripped her hips through her wool coat.

"I guess we ain’t friends no more." he said, his lips grazing hers before moving in for another, softer kiss to emphasize that fact.

He knew he lost something, changing things between him and Kat. But right now, being with her this way, he was pretty sure he’d gained something even better. Something that he’d make damn sure to hold on to this time.

The End