Chapter Text
After Beaumont and his men left, Bex, Shane and Hassani had their own meeting right there in Doc's Bar. They still had far more questions than they did answers, and were smart enough not to actually trust Beaumont to any real degree, but they formed their own rough plan about where they would go from here. As a team.
When they'd worked out everything they could, Bex asked Shane if he would drive her home. She told herself it was to give him another chance to talk if he needed it, but the truth was that she needed it just as much. Not to talk, really, at least not about anything important, but just to... be in his presence. Spending time with Shane had started to feel like sunlight at some point, and there was far too much dark in her life. She needed that light, needed the way it made her into the brighter version of herself.
So when he dropped her off, she asked him if he wanted to come in for the beer they'd never quite gotten around to getting at Doc's. As far as ploys went it was absolutely transparent, and the fact that he said yes was a forgiveness all of its own. Maybe he didn't want to be alone right now, either.
She watched him move around her little open kitchen, telling herself firmly that it was nothing more than that. He'd gone to get the beer, even though she could have done it one handed, and as he bumped the fridge door with his hip she tried very hard not to remember what it was like to share space with someone. To not only want them that close, but to have them belong there. Dating a co-worker was so risky – she knew that better than anyone – but they were also really the only ones who understood.
But Shane... Shane was just so incredibly kind. That was all it was, and she wouldn't risk losing that in her life by trying to push for more than this.
She tucked all of this back away as he came closer, handing her the beer before sitting down next to her on the loveseat. "You really okay with all this? Being the new boss?"
She sighed, wishing she had a better answer. "I think I have to be. There are a lot of killers out there that still need to be brought in, and I don't trust anybody but us to do it."
He winced sympathetically. "You can say that again." Then his expression sobered. "I didn't want to ask this before, but do you think it'll make it harder for you to get out in the field as much?"
Bex let herself absorb the sudden horror of there being some rule out there that kept her back in the base for whatever reason. That thought had never even occurred to her.
Not that it mattered. She had to do a job, and there were certain things she needed to do her job. It was as simple as that.
She shook her head, resolved. "I don't care. If I have to, I'll change the rules." Determined, she took a drink. "They make me spend too much time without you, no one's going to want to deal with me."
Bex only realized what she'd said when the room went suddenly still. "'Without me?'" he asked faintly.
She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to feel her way through an explanation that wouldn't ruin all of this. "How believable would it be if I threw in Hassani?" she asked finally, voice not nearly as steady as it should have been.
The silence stretched on far too long. "You can if you want to," he said finally. But it wasn't kindness she heard, like she'd expected to. Not a gentle agreement to pretend she hadn't said anything.
It was disappointment. Maybe even sadness.
Her eyes flew open. Shane was looking away now, gaze fixed firmly in the distance and hands tight on his beer bottle, and Bex swallowed as she set down her own.
She took a deep breath. "I don't want to," she said quietly, voice rough. He turned to look at her then, and the surprise and hope in his eyes made hers sting. "You keep the lights on for me, Shane. You make me remember how much I need the light."
She'd been terrified when she'd seen Lazarus aim her gun at Shane, enough to focus her past the concussion and take the shot she'd needed. The world needed to have Shane in it. Her world needed to have Shane in it.
Shane just stared at her for a few heartbeats, then carefully put his beer down on the table. Then he took a ragged breath. "When you went down, everything just... stopped. My heart stopped, my brain stopped... I know you were out because of the concussion, and I should have checked your pulse, but you weren't moving and I just... couldn't think after that." His jaw tightened. "There wasn't anything, after that."
Bex's own heart was hammering by this point, her gaze locked on Shane's face. It was scarier to fall in love a second time, because you knew how bad it could hurt, but she wanted this. She'd been hiding from herself just how much she wanted this.
He met her eyes. "I wanted to kill Lazarus, because she'd taken you. I couldn't, because then she'd get what she wanted, but I wanted to. Because you were gone, and everything was just so dark. It hurt." He let out a breath. "And then you were back, and so was the light."
Gently, oh so gently, he reached up and brushed an errant strand of hair back from Bex's face. "So believe me when I say there is nothing on this Earth that will keep you from having as much time with me as you want."
There was nothing to do after that but kiss him, gentle as his touch but full of all the want threatening to make her heart burst. He kissed her back the same way, tender and hungry and so, so wonderful it felt like the sun had sparked to life in her chest. His hand cradled her face like she was something precious, the other anchored on her waist like he was ready to pull her closer the moment he got the signal.
She was happy to ignore the ache in her arm and give him all the signals he needed, but far too soon he pulled away just far enough to lean his forehead against hers. "You just barely got out of the hospital," he groaned.
The sheer regret in his voice enough to soothe any frustration Bex might have been feeling. "Hey, I'm not the one who stopped us," she teased.
"You're the one who broke out of the hospital early." The depth of affection in his voice warmed her like a touch. He leaned in for a lighter, lingering kiss. "I figure at least one of us should be worried about whether you're taking care of yourself."
Her chest tightened. She'd always felt protective of Shane, not wanting the job to crush someone so good and kind, but he'd always done a good job of taking care of her as well. She remembered the feeling of his arms around her on the floor of that awful warehouse, a small slice of home in the middle of hell.
But that didn't mean she couldn't push back a little.
She curled her free hand around his neck. "You know, it'll be easier to keep an eye on me if you spend the night," she said softly. "I'm liable to fall right back into bad habits if you're not here."
He gave another theatrical groan, but his smile was slow and full of promise. "You do have a point." Then he hesitated, something fragile in his eyes. "You sure?"
Her chest squeezed tight as she leaned her forehead against his. Her voice was thick. "I'm always sure of you."
When he kissed her again, it chased away every shred of darkness.