Chapter Three

The Recognition Scene

A few minutes later, during which Scotty found his thoughts venturing further and further off course, meandering their way through thickets of memories he didn’t even know he had…vividly detailed and alluringly erotic memories… he discovered, to his astonishment, that he wasn’t wincing with regret, as he usually did when he remembered that night. No, rather than hastily trying to re-bury the memories in the depths of his subconscious, this time he found himself taking them out, looking at them…and deriving from them a curious amount of something that felt suspiciously like pleasure.

He was just beginning to try to wrap his mind around this strange new development when his swirling thoughts were interrupted by the thunk of a ceramic coffee mug on his desk, his favorite mug, in fact, and he glanced up in surprise to find Lilly grinning at him, amusement twinkling in her blue eyes. It was clear from her expression that she’d been trying to get his attention for quite some time.

"Earth to Valens," she said lightly, the laughter bubbling up in her voice.

"What?" he asked, avoiding her eyes and hoping fervently that now would be one of the rare occasions that she couldn’t read his mind. God help him if she could.

Lilly quirked a brow at him. "You’ve been starin’ off into space for the past twenty minutes, Scotty," she remarked, still fighting her giggles. "What the hell are you doing?"

Scotty quickly cleared his throat. "Nothin’," he replied brusquely, then lunged for the coffee mug, taking far longer than necessary to sip the bitter brew in an attempt to dissuade his unnervingly perceptive partner from asking any more questions.

Fortunately, his cell phone rang just then, and he snatched it from his belt and whipped it open before Lilly even had a chance to blink. He couldn’t remember having ever been so grateful for a distraction in his entire life.

"Valens," he answered as professionally as he could, still avoiding Lilly’s penetrating gaze.

Meanwhile, Lilly sat at her desk, pretending to go over the notes from her interview with Lucy the Battlestar Galactica-obsessed cyber-stalker, but mostly, she was just sipping her coffee and watching her partner. He’d obviously been deep in thought, that was for sure, and the embarrassed flush that had crept into his cheeks when she’d asked him about it told her that those thoughts definitely, definitely hadn’t been on the paperwork in front of him.

"You gotta….what?" Scotty asked blankly, and although Lilly couldn’t hear the other end of the conversation, she could tell just from the look on his face that it was Miller, and the news probably wasn’t good.

"Suspended?" he burst out in disbelief. "What the…how the hell can you get suspended from day care?"

Hearing a soft, barely suppressed snicker from the desk beside him, he turned to face Lilly, who was trying to hide her amusement, but failing miserably. He shot her a half-hearted glare, then returned to the conversation. He had more pressing issues at the moment than keeping Lil quiet.

"Well, what about your moms?" he asked, and Lilly fought back another giggle when Scotty's eyes widened in shock and he almost choked on his coffee.

"She’s what?" he asked, with even more disbelief than he had a few seconds before. "Look," he sputtered, "I don’t care if it is Bingo day, I…" He paused, and Lilly could hear, very faintly, the tinny-sounding version of Kat’s undoubtedly cranky retort.

"Yeah, okay, fine," Scotty finally replied, rolling his eyes. "I forgot. Bingo is sacred. Whatever." He paused to listen for a second, then visibly paled. "You’re gonna what?" Another pause, more distorted, barely-audible ranting, and then he sighed in defeat. "Okay, sure! Bring her here!" he agreed with sarcastic enthusiasm, then snapped his phone closed in disgust and glanced over at Lilly as he replaced it.

"Looks like we’re gonna get to spend some quality time with my daughter," he informed his partner drily, a wry grin crossing his face.

Lilly’s laughter finally bubbled over, and Scotty realized that, although it was at his expense, he simply didn’t have it in him to try and squelch her amusement. Her smile could brighten an entire room, and often did, on those rare occasions when she let it. True, she’d been much happier the last couple of years, but old habits died hard, and when he saw that brilliant smile shining there, Scotty was loath to do or say anything that might scare it away.

"What?" he asked, arching his eyebrows and taking another sip of coffee.

"You," she replied, still fighting her laughter. "And that kid of yours."

Scotty chuckled and set the coffee back down on his desk. "She’s a pain in the ass," he replied with mock gruffness, though Lilly could clearly hear the love in his voice.

"Maybe," she conceded, "but you love her more than anything in the world, and you know it."

"Yeah," he agreed softly, his affectionate gaze traveling to the picture he kept on his desk, and Lilly shook her head and studied him.

Scotty was lost in thought for another moment, then felt a pair of curious blue eyes still giving him the once-over.

"What?" he asked again, suddenly uncomfortable. That look Lil was giving him…it was that unnerving, familiar look that always meant she’d just come up with some earth-shattering observation about him, something that would probably irritate the hell out of him…mostly because it was, no doubt, true.

Lilly shrugged casually and turned her eyes back to her paperwork. "Just never really pictured you as a dad, Scotty."

Scotty chuckled with more than a little relief, grateful for the opportunity to yank his memories back to safer terrain. "Yeah…me either," he admitted. "Not back then."

"Especially not back then," Lilly laughed.

"The mornin’ after…" Scotty began, then shook his head. "Jeez."

"You can say that again," Lilly replied.

The Morning After

The first thing Scotty noticed when he woke up the next morning was the most ferociously pounding headache he’d ever had in his entire life.

The second thing that penetrated his consciousness was the fact that he was completely naked and lying on the hard, unforgiving wood of a living room floor. Not his living room, either, he quickly realized. His apartment had dingy, nasty-ass carpet that had smelled funny from the day he moved in, some strange combination of stale beer, Thai food, and wet dog. Not a plank of hardwood in the place.

So if he wasn’t at his place, where the hell was he? Why the hell did his head hurt? And why, for the love of God, was he naked?

Don’t take a rocket scientist to figure out why your ass is naked, Valens, his brain informed him sarcastically. Only question is, who, why, and how bad did you screw up this time?

The why was quickly answered when his bleary eyes managed to focus on an empty bottle of bourbon perched precariously on the edge of a coffee table, a table he didn’t immediately recognize. That led his foggy, hung over brain to ponder the other two questions, the who, and the how bad…

Oh…dear…God.

Bad, he realized.

Really….really…really…bad.

Scotty’s blurry vision had finally focused enough to give him a clear view of the room’s other occupant, who lay sprawled on the couch, snoring softly, with her makeup slightly smudged, a fuzzy, off-white blanket draped over everything but her shoulders, and her hair covering most of the lower half of her face.

Oh, good God, Valens, this is worse than the ADA, his brain scolded him as he scrambled to his feet, ignoring the extra shots of pain with which his aching head and stiff joints rewarded him, in an effort to both maintain his balance and keep as quiet as he possibly could. This is worse than Rush’s sister. Hell, this is worse than both of them put together …worse than anything you possibly coulda---

He was unable to finish his thought, however, due to the icy panic that shot through his veins when Kat stirred slightly. As she rolled onto her back, the blanket slipped slightly too low, revealing the chocolaty swells of her breasts, and he turned away quickly, snatching his boxers from where they lay draped on top of the television and jumping into them as though the room were on fire, then searching around hurriedly for the rest of his clothes. He couldn’t have…they couldn’t have….not after last night. No. Hell, no. Not when she was so vulnerable, so trusting. All she needed was a ride home…a friend…how the hell could he have taken advantage of her like that?

As he hastily zipped his pants, he glanced down and noticed the faint shadow of a bruise on the bronzed skin of his right bicep. Good Lord, that woman could hit hard.

She can do other things hard, too, his libido reminded him, but he ordered it into silence while frantically tugging his T-shirt over his head. It didn’t matter in the slightest how good the sex had been, he couldn’t dwell on it. Couldn’t even think about it. She was his colleague, his friend, the last person in the world he should be sleeping with, and his mission at that point was to grab the rest of his clothing, get the hell out of there, and figure how in the world he was going to face her at work that morning.

Scotty didn’t even dare to breathe until he was out of Kat’s apartment and in his car, and then he finally rested his head against the steering wheel and let out an enormous sigh of relief. He’d managed to escape her place with at least a few shreds of his dignity intact.

Despite the pain in his head, he couldn’t stop himself from gently beating it against the steering wheel a few times as fragments of memories came floating back to him. He wanted to forget it, to pretend it hadn’t happened, and he thought for sure he’d downed enough bourbon the night before to make him even forget his name, but apparently that hadn’t been the case. Apparently, he hadn’t been as drunk as he thought.  A sick, twisting sense of horror rose in his chest as one particular memory floated to the surface.

She tasted like bourbon, he realized as he devoured her lips. Like bourbon, and wine, and the tiniest hint of the cigarette he was pretty sure she’d smoked before her date, just to calm her nerves. She tasted like heaven, and hell, and everything in between, and he knew he should stop, knew if he didn’t, that he’d regret every move he was making, knew that, of all the boneheaded mistakes he’d ever made in his life, this was sure to top the list in the cold, sober light of morning…but she tasted so damn good, he didn’t care. Couldn’t care.

Finally, she pulled back, and he forced himself to meet her gaze."Scotty," she managed, her voice soft, almost tremulous, as she looked up at him, her dark eyes suddenly pricked with fear.

It’s for the best, he told himself as firmly as he could, catching his breath and ignoring his sinking heart. She’s scared, she knows what a stupid-assed idea this is, she’s puttin’ on the brakes, and it’s for the best. You’ll thank her in the morning.

He took a step back , deciding in a split second that the only way to salvage the situation was to make a break for it, get the hell out of there, and just sleep it off in the car…but, to his surprise, the greater distance between them only made the fear he saw in her eyes increase. He sure as hell hadn’t expected that, and it froze him to the spot.

"Scotty," she repeated, her voice even more nervous, her eyes wide and pleading. "I’m…I’m…"

"It’s okay," he said softly, tentatively closing the gap between them once more and gently running his hands up and down her arms. That seemed to calm her somewhat…and that knowledge confused him more than anything that had happened since Stillman had handed him the phone that evening and informed him that a drunken Kat Miller was calling for him…

…until she spoke her next words.

"I’m…not sure what you want me to do next," she admitted almost sheepishly as she avoided his gaze.

"Next?" he parroted blankly. "Kat, I ain’t quite sure I…"

Holy crap. She wasn’t asking him to leave…she wasn’t putting on the brakes…good Lord, she was putting him in the driver’s seat.

And suddenly, Scotty knew. He knew why she’d been so reluctant to go out on that date. He knew what had terrified her more than anything else. And he knew why she’d gotten so drunk at dinner, why she’d downed half a bottle of bourbon after they got back to her place.

Suddenly, he was filled with energy, a sense of purpose, and a tender compassion that flooded through his veins and washed away the last of his reservations. There was a decent chance this wouldn’t be a mistake, he decided. She was lonely, she was vulnerable, she was in need. To leave now would be a worse error than to stay…she was asking for his help. She needed him.

To his complete and utter revulsion, Scotty realized, as the bile and regret began to rise in his throat until he almost choked on it, that, good God, he hadn’t just slept with her because he was drunk. Oh, no. He wasn’t sure which was worse, taking advantage of her while intoxicated, or doing something, he was quickly beginning to realize, with an overwhelming sense of self-loathing, that, even if he’d been stone-cold sober…he probably would have done anyway.

Son of a bitch, he growled inwardly, slapping the steering wheel with the palm of his hand. Would he never learn? He and Kat had spent the hour prior to their indiscretion lamenting past mistakes, where they’d let their hearts rule over their heads…and not ten minutes after they’d had that conversation, here he was, making the same goddamn mistake again. Sober, drunk, it wouldn’t have made a damn bit of difference, he realized bitterly. She’d deployed his Kryptonite; an honest, vulnerable woman, someone he could save…and he’d swooped in like the superhero he liked to imagine himself to be and made it all better.

Or, he realized with a wry chuckle, worse. Infinitely, unimaginably worse. Because the only way in hell Kat Miller would’ve let him get away with his usual asinine stunts was by being drunk off her ass herself.

Good Lord. He was the biggest idiot on the planet, and he knew that fact wouldn’t escape her. He pictured the look he was sure to see in her eyes, the fury, the murderous rage, and hastily slipped his key into the ignition and drove to his apartment at near breakneck speed…before realizing that, by rushing around like that, he was only hurrying the inevitable.

He was a dead man.

***

Scotty heard the vicious swearing floating in from the hallway long before he saw its source, and his heart and head both began to pound ferociously as Kat entered the office. He didn’t dare to look up from his desk, forcing himself instead to concentrate on the file before him, despite the fact that his hangover, and the fear of what she’d do to him, made the hastily scrawled notes swirl nauseatingly in front of his eyes.

She can’t kill you at work, Valens, his brain reassured him, though even it seemed unconvinced.

He followed her progress with his eyes as she stormed into the kitchen, filled her coffee mug, and then came back out into the office. "Goddamn son of a bitch hangover," she muttered as she plopped heavily into the chair at her desk and began digging around in one of its drawers, the clattering noise from her search making Scotty wince with pain.

"Sounds like someone had a fun evening," Vera piped up, glancing at her with that look that often twinkled in his eyes when he was eager for a morsel of juicy gossip, and Scotty felt an embarrassed flush begin to creep into his cheeks. Oh, God, no. Surely she wouldn’t…

"Fun?" Kat repeated with an incredulous glance in Vera’s direction, then paused thoughtfully for a moment before continuing. "All I remember is…a nice bottle of wine." Shaking her head, she returned to her search through the desk drawer. Vera chortled gleefully, but disguised it as a cough when Kat shot him the most murderous glare she could muster.

Meanwhile, Scotty was nearly falling out of his chair with surprise. Did…did she really not remember what happened, or was she just pretending not to, and planning to murder him for it later? Probably the latter, he decided. After all they’d done the night before, all the times she’d moaned his name in the throes of passion, he was sure she’d have remembered…well, something.

Surreptitiously, he studied Kat as she popped a couple of aspirin into her mouth, washed them down with a sip of coffee, then opened up the case file and started to rifle through her notes. She seemed casual enough, concentrating more on relieving what was no doubt an excruciating headache than anything else. After a few seconds’ examination with his carefully honed detective’s eye, Scotty was fairly convinced. It seemed like she really didn’t remember. If she did, he reasoned, he was sure she’d be hauling his ass into the interview room and tearing him a new one then and there, and that was the least he deserved. How the hell could he have let that happen…with her? Did he have no self-control at all?

"What?" she barked as she glanced up and caught him staring at her.

"Nothin’," he replied hastily, returning his eyes to his desk as quickly as he could.

"I knew I shoulda called in sick today," Kat griped with an exasperated glance at both of them. "You two jackasses act like you ain’t never seen a hangover before."

"Oh, I have, trust me," Vera replied gleefully. "I’ve just never seen you with a hangover before."

Kat turned to glare at him. "You don’t quit buggin’ me about this, I swear to God I’ll kick your ass so hard a hangover’ll feel like a day at Disney World," she threatened darkly, and Vera responded with a slight jump, then stuffed a donut into his mouth and returned to clicking away at his keyboard.

Just then, Lilly came into the squad room. "CSU found something," she announced.

Everyone looked up, grateful for the distraction. "What’s that?" Scotty asked.

Lilly held up a small plastic evidence bag. "Fibers from some really ugly shag carpet in that spaceship van," she replied briskly. "They showed up on Missy’s sweatpants."

Scotty froze, knowing he should be focusing on his partner’s discovery and offering his own theories about the case, but he was totally unable to do anything except sneak a look out of the corner of his eye at Kat, whose attention was still fixed on her paperwork.

Suddenly, as though everything was moving in slow motion, she froze, her pen still poised to cross a ‘t’ on the form she was filling out, and Scotty could see the wheels beginning to rotate in her head. He could see her fighting through the fog of her hangover, struggling to comprehend why the hell the idea of sweatpants was sounding so familiar. As various expressions flickered across her face, his heart leaped into his throat, and he fervently wished he could just crawl under his desk and into a hole that would lead him to some alternate universe far, far away from this mess.

Suddenly, he saw the realization dawn on her face, and Kat stiffened, dropped her pen to the desk, and rose from her chair so quickly she knocked it over with a loud, metallic clatter that caused everyone to jump and made Scotty wince and groan involuntarily as the noise invaded his head with a sharp, stabbing pain above his eyes.

"Oh, shit," she exclaimed under her breath, then rushed from the office. "I think I’m gonna be sick," she muttered on her way out.

Lilly glanced at Scotty and Vera quizzically.

"Hangover," Vera explained with a shrug as he rose from his desk.

"Wow…guess she really was drunk last night," Lilly concluded, glancing in Scotty’s direction before heading into the interview room, Vera close behind.

Scotty paused and rubbed his temples with his fingertips as he pondered his next move. He knew he should go find Miller, go talk to her, go drop to his knees and grovel and beg and see if there was anything in the world she’d let him do that might possibly make up for the horrible, awful mistake he’d made the previous night. But…she might kill him before he got the chance to ask.

Well, what the hell? he asked himself rhetorically as, decision made, he got up and headed out into the hallway after her. Least, if she does kill me… I’ll get rid of this damn headache.

***

After several minutes of searching, Scotty finally found Kat pacing a little-used hallway on the top floor, her head in her hands.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid," he heard her mutter over and over as she stalked the hallway, her back to him.

Scotty agreed wholeheartedly. Stupid was the least of what he was. He cringed as another memory hit, making his headache even worse.

Guess I might have game after all, she’d slurred seductively.

Oh, you got game, baby, Scotty heard the drunken version of himself echoing in reply. You got game.

Kat turned around then, glanced up, and saw him standing there. Her eyes met his for a moment, then widened in absolute horror, matching the expression Scotty was sure reflected from his own, and he stood there, completely helpless and totally unable to move. He studied her face, trying to figure out whether she’d murder him right away, or whether she’d torture him slowly until he begged her to put him out of his misery.

Kinda like she did last night, his libido reminded him cheerfully, and once more, he ordered it into silence.

What he didn’t expect, however, was what came out of her mouth.

"How the hell could I have been so…so stupid?" she demanded of him, her voice wavering and her eyes suddenly shining with tears. "How could I have let this happen?"

Scotty was floored. She thought…she thought she was the stupid one?

"Hey…it ain’t your fault," he insisted softly, taking a couple tentative steps toward her. "It’s mine. I was drunk off my ass… and weak…and I took advantage of you."

Kat stared at him incredulously. "You…took advantage of me?" she repeated in disbelief. "Nuh-uh, Valens," she disagreed, shaking her head, "I took advantage of you. You were a real friend to me last night. You came and bailed me out and said exactly what I needed to hear to make me feel better, and I shoulda let it go at that, but I didn’t…I just...just threw myself at you," she finished, tossing her hands up in the air in a gesture of utter helplessness.

"But I let you," Scotty argued, determined not to let her take the blame for this. "I didn’t stop you. I shoulda stopped you."

"I shoulda stopped myself," Kat disagreed with another self-deprecating shake of her head. She paused then, a peculiar look crossing her face, and Scotty searched her eyes with a frown. "It’s just that---" she started to say, then trailed off.

"What?" he asked quietly, against his better judgment.

She leaned against the wall and sighed heavily, hesitated for another few seconds, her eyes on the floor, then looked up at him again. "It just…it felt so damn good…not to be alone for once, y’know?" she said, her voice thick and tremulous.

Scotty nodded, dumbfounded by that lightning-fast change between anger and vulnerability that he’d first seen the night before…and also by how starkly true her words were. "Yeah," he agreed quietly.

They stared at each other for a moment, and then Kat seemed to snap back to attention.

"Look," she began tentatively. "I don’t want this to…be anything."

"Me neither," Scotty quickly agreed, with some measure of relief. Things were messy enough already.

"In fact," Kat continued softly. "I know this is askin’ a lot, but…" she trailed off then, shaking her head.

"C’mon," he prodded with a slight grin, suddenly reassured that, for the moment, anyway, his life was safe. "Whatever it is, just ask."

She looked up at him again, suddenly more vulnerable than he’d ever seen her.

"Can we just…go back to the way things were?" she asked, her eyes wide and pleading. "Can we pretend this never happened?"

Scotty sighed with relief and smiled broadly. "Absolutely," he agreed. "Can’t think of anything I’d like better."

Kat sighed again, the first hint of a smile beginning to touch her face. "Okay, then," she said, her shoulders almost visibly slumping as the anxiety started to bleed out of her.

"Shake on it?" Scotty asked, extending a hand.

Kat studied his proffered hand almost suspiciously for a moment, then responded with a slight shudder. "No…no touching for a while, okay?" she suggested, a slight wince touching her features.

Scotty couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped his lips. "Fine by me, Miller," he replied as he turned and headed toward the elevator to return to the office without a backward glance.