Author: Sarahlee

Email: [email protected]

Category: Drama / Angst

Rating: PG-13 for language and graphic violence

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from Third Watch - The ultimate bummer.

Spoilers: Selected events and incidents through season two.

Summery: When Ty and Bosco are partnered up, their normal, run-of-the-mill day takes a deadly turn.

A/N: Hey guys, I'm back...! Hope you enjoy my latest brainstorm :) I love to paint a clear mental picture, but let me know if I have gotten carried away in narrative and descriptions!

To Joey and Stella: You two are the best! Thanks for everything!

Ty Davis shuffled his feet slightly, relieving a bit of the painful pressure that was building in his extremities. Crouched as low to the ground as his muscled, six-foot-four frame would allow, he tried to ignore the growing sensation of pins and needles as his legs begged for better circulation. The frigid, gusty wind blowing all around him only added to the unpleasantness, ruthlessly drying his eyes and chapping his exposed cheeks until they felt raw. As badly as he wished to move though, his thoughts and eyes stayed focused down the barrel of his standard-issue 9mm Beretta, watching and waiting for just the right moment.

Beside him, Sullivan was hunkered down in a similar position, one finger of his left hand held up, signaling Ty and the others to wait. Wait. Another few seconds, maybe another few minutes, but it would come. The right moment would come. Sully, a seasoned cop and his overseeing officer, would know when it was time better then he, so he waited, anxiously fingering the trigger on his gun as he tried to ignore the growing discomfort that he was being forced to endure. The gun was becoming increasingly heavy in his hand, the curved steel of the trigger cold and smooth against his index finer, enticing him to squeeze it.

Adding to the uncomfortable environment, the dark of night did it's best to thwart sight, and Ty's vision was significantly hindered by the encasing blackness. The soft piles of icy snow that lined the ground as a thick carpet, was the bright, contrasting white that replicated what little light the cloud-sheathed moon had to offer. Subtle reflections helped his eyes enough so that he was able to make out the gloomy shadows and silhouettes that were peppered around him, but not sufficiently enough to provide an adequate aim on anything. And so he sat, the seconds ticking by, each long and lonely as the soft hush of anxiousness enveloped the dark alleyway that they now inhabited.

Out of the corner of his eye, Ty saw a movement. A low, dark silhouette moving --or rather, slinking-- forward slowly. For a moment, he let his eye travel away from the barrel of his weapon to satisfy his curiosity. Stealing forward in a crouched duck-walk, the figure moved deftly from the dark shadow that it emerged from and into the opening to the black abyss of the alley. The shadow stopped as soon as it entered the mouth and brought up a gun.

Bosco. The show-off had to be the closest, had to have the best shot. Typical.

Ty sighed and shook his head slightly, then realigned his gun and peered down its sights again, focusing his attention solely on the obscure and gloomy, cavernous hole that lay before him.

The perp was in there -- a wanted murderer, or so they thought. Sully had spotted him not ten minutes earlier, sipping imperturbably on a cup of coffee and leaning against a bus stop sign, nice as you please, not a care in the world. He should have paid more attention to the RMP that had slowly crept up, trying to get a better view of his face. When the two cops had finally gotten a good look and determined that his mug matched the sketch artist's rendition, Sully had radioed in and the chase was on.

Now, four blocks of hard running later, they had him cornered. The guy had been stupid enough to trap himself in a dead end. Unfortunately, he was considered armed and dangerous, and because of the darkness of the alley, they had no way to see if he was indeed carrying a weapon. To run in after him would have been suicidal. Boscorelli and Yokas had shown up as backup a few minutes ago, and like Ty, now awaited the drop of Sully's raised finger.

A scuffling sound omitted from the alley, and was awarded with a loud shout from Ty's partner, "Don't even think of pulling anything, you hear me? Just come out slowly with your hands up!"

Another scuffle, then complete silence.

Wait for it... Wait for it... Ty told himself, repositioning his aim an inch or two to the right, where he figured the sounds were deriving from.

Sully moved slowly, catching Ty's eye as he reached to his gun-belt for his flashlight. The shiny black cylinder would become very useful in just a few seconds.

"Com'on out, you bastard!" Bosco yelled from his spot -- closest to the alley, of course. "It's not like we have you cornered or anything!"

Ty rolled his eyes at this and squinted, ready for the beam of light to be shot down the alley. His senior partner slowly raised the flashlight, pointing it directly into the darkness in question, and began softly counting down under his breath, "Okay... Three...two...one!"

The loud click of the switch was lost amongst the officer's shouts and commands as the alley was illuminated with light.

"Put it down! Put it down, now!" Sully bellowed at the perp, who stood boldly in the center of the alleyway, his own gun waving around erratically, as if he couldn't decide whom to shoot at first.

A single shot went off, sending off a flash of light as bright as day and a bullet ricocheting loudly off of the cruiser that Ty crouched behind. The resounding clang of metal against metal startled him, and he felt himself inadvertently flinch and stoop down further, forcing his already cramped body into an even tighter hunch.

"Son-of-a-bitch..." Sully muttered from a few feet away, shifting his bulk for a better shot.

"That's enough, jag-off! Eat this!" Bosco yelled, cocking his own weapon noisily and firing back a round at their opponent.

His shot was right on, aimed perfectly for the perp's gun. The bullet barely nicked the edge of the weapon, but the angry man lost his grip on the gun and it fell to the frozen ground beside his foot. Damn-good shot.

As soon as the perp's gun hit the icy snow, the uproar commenced. A jumble of words flew through the air as all four officers simultaneously screamed for him to drop to his knees and surrender. "Get down!" "On your knees, now!" "Put the gun down!" "Give it up, sucker!"

Wisely, the man chose to comply and slowly lowered himself to the frozen pavement, raising his arms overhead in an unenthusiastic surrender.

Bosco and Faith promptly raced in to secure him while Sully re-holstered his 9mm and followed. Ty struggled to uncurl his cramped body from the near fetal position that he'd been cowering in for the last few minutes, but his legs were numb from loss of circulation. "Ungh," he groaned when they protested his movement and sent stabbing pain up his calves and thighs.

"You actually thought you could shoot your way out?" Bosco was yelling at the perp as he wrestled him to the ground. "You are such a dumb shit! Seriously, did your mama drop you or somthin'?"

"Alright, Bosco -- enough. Let me have him," Sully growled at the hotheaded cop, dragging the struggling perp away from his grasp at the same time. Bosco tended to overreact and usually felt the need to tell each and every offender just why the hell he had caught their sorry ass. Needless to say, more than one then one arrest had ended up in a fistfight -- with Boscorelli being the aggressor. This time was no exception.

After tightly securing a pair of handcuffs on their arrestee's wrists, Sully grabbed his shoulder CB and called in, "Central, we have the suspect in custody."

"10-4, Charlie."

Smirking with satisfaction, Bosco continued to egg on the perp, pushing at his cuffed arms with his nightstick, and then taunting when the man winced in pain, "That hurt, scumbag? That hurt you?"

"Bosco..." Sully groaned at him, shaking his head at his coworker's brazen misanthropy. "That's enough."

Ty chuckled at the glare that Bosco then shot to his partner. If looks could kill...

He struggled to stand again and succeed, but the hasty movement sent tingles of pain radiating up and down his legs. He winced as he straightened fully, the tingling intensifying until it was virtually numbing.

"You okay, Davis?" asked Faith as she walked up to him, a worried frown on her face.

"Uh, yeah... My legs fell asleep, I guess," he answered quickly and almost sheepishly, slipping his gun back into its holster.

Faith smiled amusedly at his hangdog remark and nodded, "Yeah, I know what you mean. Shootouts are a bitch."

"Who's a bitch?" Bosco asked loudly from a few feet away as he continued to make faces at the surly perp, his arms crossed in a defiant 'I'm-the-boss-get-over-it' petulance.

Faith just smirked at Davis and ignored the question. "You got this one, Sully?" she asked, no doubt eager to get back to the warmth of 55-David.

Over the last few days, the city's temperature had dropped severely due to a merciless cold front and impending snowstorm that loomed on the western horizon, and in the long hours since the sun had come out that day, the mercury had barely crept past the negative numbers - offering a meager single-digit readout. To say that it was bitter cold outside would be putting it lightly. Ty wasn't looking forward to the evening hours when the temperature would plummet yet again, distributing merciless frigidity into the core of the city.

Shuffling his feet a bit, Sully wryly took a long look at the perp, and judging from the way the man was gritting his teeth in pain, he consented, "Yeah, go ahead. He won't give us anymore trouble."

Bosco snorted at this, poking their detainee with his nightstick once again. "He'd better not give you any trouble... No, smart-ass here should be a real good boy now, right?"

"Let's go, Bosco..." Faith's tone ordered rather then suggested as she dragging her partner by his arm towards their RMP. "We'll see you guys later."

"Yeah," Sully grunted, uninterested. He'd been in a fowl mood all day and hadn't relinquished the reason to his partner, no matter how much Ty had coaxed. If his reasons for being snappy were anything like Ty's, he was bored, tired, and utterly fed up with the cold winter weather and the seemingly endless supply of foolhardy criminals.

Ty leaned up against the cruiser, eyeing the passenger seat, knowing just how much warmer it was within the insulating metal frame. The icy wind was picking up and biting into his cheeks like bits of glass, each gust an astringent reminder of how obnoxiously uncomfortable he was. Lovely weather.

"You have the right to remain silent..." Sully mumbled the scripted Miranda to their arrestee as he pushed the man towards the backseat of the RMP, making sure that his skull rudely connected with the roof.

Recoiling from the blow, the perp shook his head insolently as he struggled against the handcuffs and Sully's strong arm. "I ain't sayin' nothin' without my lawyer!" he snarled as a perturbed Sully forcefully shoved him into the cruiser for good.

"Fine, have it your way, Mr. Doe. Plead the fifth -- just makes less paperwork for us..." Ty snapped at him, not in the mood to put up with any backtalk. A fighter like this one would only be yet another aggravation in the hassle-ridden days that New York City smugly called average and normal. Great.

The dead quiet was starting to become annoying. You could have heard a pin drop in the silent RMP, an unusual incidence for the two that drove it daily. On a normal day, most of the downtime was spent in idle chatter, each of the officers trying to pass the hours quickly with jokes and digs, or at least comments about the weather. Today no such exchanges took place, and the silence was reaching its pinnacle point at nearly deafening.

For the second time that minute, Bosco stole another glance at his partner, intrigued by her lack of words, wondering what could have brought on the uncharacteristic fit of un-inspired silence. "Well...you've been awful quiet today. Somthin' goin' on?"

As if she'd anticipated this question, Faith merely shrugged, not bothering to turn her head. "I don't know. I just don't feel a hundred percent, I guess..."

Bosco shook his head at this, not because he didn't believe her, he just figured there was some underlying problem.

"Fred?" he guessed -- a good guess considering the problems that Faith and her husband had been through recently. Married life had its ups and downs, and Faith and her husband were defiantly riding through one of the 'down' times. Stories and rantings about the childish behavior of the 'uncouth' Fred had patronized the RMP in the recent weeks with their frequency and --more often then not-- humorous flavor. Bosco found the quiet that now replaced their talks to be bothersome, and now almost wished for a Fred-related story -- at least he'd be entertained. Anything would be better that staring bleakly out the window into the equally bleak night.

Faith shot him a look a look that could only be read as a firm 'no', her face hardening into an icy frown. He didn't give up though, taking another guess and using the subject as convenient filler. "The kids?"

Again an adverse look, but this time she held it, resolutely glaring her partner right in the eye. "No! It's fine... everything's fine."

"Um-hmm," Bosco murmured, completely unconvinced and used to her methods. Silence and playing down what was vexing her were top on his list of Faith's most irritating traits, but only because he wanted to help her out. "You could talk about it, you know. Always helps to talk to somebody, get everything off your chest."

"Bosco!" Faith snapped. "Leave it be! I'm fine."

"Alright, alright, I was just tryin' to help...geez," he shook his head again, but this time it was in total annoyance and incredulity. Women had to be the most complex creatures on the planet. Warm, cold, warm, cold -- a guy could never judge just how she would be at any one moment, her countenance changing so rapidly that it could make a head spin. Today was no exception, but Bosco had long-since learned the value of a little thing called 'tact'. Tact in this case would be to just shut up then while he was still ahead -- or frankly, still had a head.

Once more, silence enveloped them, appeasing Faith, yet annoying her partner further. This time the quiet was worse, uncomfortable almost.

Giving up finally, Bosco fidgeted in his seat, toying distractedly with the switches and buttons on the dashboard, trying in vain to amuse himself. When he had finished checking gauges, turning knobs, and messing with the portable CB, he moved on to himself, zipping his coat up and rearranging his NYPD skullcap.

"Dammit, Bosco, can you sit still for one minute?" Faith hissed at him, "You're like a freakin' kid!"

"What?!" Bosco shot right back, his face screwed up in his best 'exasperated' look. "This bother you?" he asked sarcastically, zipping his coat zipper up and down quickly, intentionally trying to get on her nerves. Two could play this game... "Huh?"

"Bosco, I'm warning you - not today. I have a headache and your shenanigans are just makin' it worse! So just cut it out, okay? I mean it."

Women. Bosco rolled his eyes and sighed, sinking heavily back into his seat in defeat.

God, this is going to be a wicked-long day.

Contentment and ease washed over him as Ty leaned his head against the headrest, enjoying the break in-between calls and trips outside into the frigid cold. In an attempt to thaw their near-frozen bones, Sully had set the heater dial to the far right and cranked the fan, blowing warm, dry air into the cab of the RMP, bringing about the immense comfort that his partner was feeling at the moment. If only the rest of the shift could be spent in such a way...

As if Fate had seen his pleasure, the radio rang out, the operator's voice shrill and cackling, "Central to 55-Charlie, respond to a fender-bender at Arthur and 5th."

Fate was laughing.

"Awww, shit..." Ty muttered under his breath, cursing the weather, the day, and the dumb-ass drivers that would force him outside into the sub-zero climate once again.

Unfortunately, when the sun had set a few hours ago, the dusky darkness had ushered in that wretched front of unwelcome arctic air. The unpleasant cold of earlier that day had nothing on the new frigidity that now enveloped the city, seeping into its core like liquid ice. Forecasters had announced that the drop of temperature was there to stay, at least for another few days, and it was to be one of the coldest weeks in New York's history.

Just what we need...a blizzard. Merry Christmas, early, huh? Thanks, Santa - I'll pass, Ty thought miserably, affording all of the credit for the inexcusable cold to the jolly fat man.

Sully glanced over at Ty and shook his head, obviously equally put-out. "Central," he practically groaned into the microphone, "55-Charlie, Arthur and 5th, 10-4."

Ty flicked on the lights, shrewdly choosing to omit the sirens for this call. No need to hurry. "You know what, Sul? It's days like this that makes Florida sound real nice..." he commented glumly, pulling on an extra pair of gloves and repositioning his scarf to fully cover his neck.

"Yeah," Sully sighed blissfully, "What is it down there right now, like eighty? I swear..."

"Seriously. Why the hell live do I live here?"

"Oh, com'on... why would you want beaches and sun all year when you could have this? Skyscrapers, smog, snow, traffic...the lap of luxury."

"Tell me about it..." Ty grumbled. Sometimes he really had to sit back and take a minute to remember why he had taken this job in the first place. Was all of the crap he had to put up with really worth it? The daily stress that the job piled onto his shoulder, the deadly situations that he and his coworkers encountered on a daily basis, the gruesome, gory images that he could never quite shake... Was this really what he wanted?

Then he would remember just why he had signed up. Honor, courage, valor. Before this job he was missing something -- was without. Now he had a sense of pride and accomplishment, no matter how bad the day, week, or month. He was protecting a city.

Some days, though --like this day-- it was very hard to put things into perspective.

"Damn, it's freezing out here!" Bosco cursed, rubbing his gloved hands together in a futile effort to warm them up. This only served to re-ignite the tingling sensation of fingers thawing out of their numb state, and he frowned at the annoying pains.

"No kidding," Faith remarked wryly. The harsh wind was chapping her cheeks to the point that they felt skinned. Bosco's comments only made it worse, drawing her entire attention to just how intensely uncomfortable she was.

"God, it's gotta be forty below at least... Damn, it's cold!" he exclaimed again as they climbed the stairwell leading to the break-in that they'd been called for. His breath created a thick, white condensation in the icy air, visually indicating the harshness of the minimal temperature.

Why the hell anyone with a head on their shoulders had even bothered to venture out was beyond him -- then again, burglars weren't the smartest people on the planet, and he had caught more than a few within hours of their latest heist. Usually, he had the energy and ambition to hunt them down, searching the streets for hours, but today he barely had drive enough to force himself to the crime scene.

"Bosco, I swear, if you say that one more time, I'll smack you!" Faith barked at him, thoroughly irritated at her partner. On a normal day, she could put up with just about everything that he threw at her, but today her head was bothering her and every sound was multiplied a thousand times, ringing and high-pitched. Bosco would just have to shut up.

"Pissy today, aren't we?" he mocked, flashing his infamous smirk to her scowling face.

"Don't push it."

"Right," Bosco nodded sardonically, reaching to push the front door buzzer. "Just don't take it all out on me."

Faith ignored him yet again, pulling the 'I-could-really-care-less' attitude that she copped whenever she was angry, irritated, or frankly, whenever her partner got on her nerves.

Bosco rolled his eyes and shifted his weight from one foot to the other, unconsciously trying to keep himself warm. Whoever called in the robbery was taking their sweet time to buzz them in...

"Com'on..." he groaned, forcefully pushing the buzzer again. "It's only forty freakin' below out here!"

Finally, the intercom sputtered back static, and then a question from a rather shaky voice, "Who is it?"

"Police..." Bosco shook his head and scowled, obviously exasperated, "You called us, remember?"

The door buzzed and unlocked, and Bosco didn't hesitate a second to open it and slip inside into the somewhat heated lobby. "Whew, not much better in here..." he commented to his fuming partner, who's annoyed looks had turned into sour glares.

Bosco repressed the urge to lash out at her, choosing once again to keep his head intact and on his shoulders. What the hell is up with her today? He sighed and continued on, making his way to the stairwell at the far side of the lobby, shaking his head all the way, completely miffed at her indifference.

His gaze indicated the intensity of his concentration, glazed and unfocused eyes adrift in deep musing as they stared unceremoniously out the window. No movement came from his body, relaxed and settled comfortably in the deep seat, and he gave the appearance of someone rapt in contemplation.

A soft --and seemingly humored-- snort erupted from the opposite side of the small cab, startling the introspective Bobby slightly while quickly pulling him from his entrenched reflection. His eyes refocused on his partner, Kim, who was smirking at him, eyebrows raised and an amused look plastered across her face as she shook her head slowly.

"What?" Bobby frowned, confused as to what had generated the source of his partner's obvious entertainment. The woman was complex at best, but in truth, he felt that he knew her better then anyone. Months and years of riding alongside someone instilled that sixth sense and knowledge of their innermost character that was surpassed by none. But it was moments like this one that Bobby was once again lost in her mystery.

"We just got a call, but you seem to have other, more important things on your mind."

"I guess I was lost in thought..." he shrugged as he keyed the engine, forcing himself to prepare for the next hour or so of drudgery that would no doubt ensue.

As if on cue, his honest reply was rewarded by another snort by his permanently tongue-in-cheek counterpart.

"Unfamiliar territory, huh?" Kim quipped sarcastically as she buckled her seatbelt, not even bothering to suppress her mirthful laughter.

Faith followed Bosco as he trotted up the stairwell, her head aching and pounding relentlessly. Their footsteps were echoing loudly around, irritating her headache further and grating on her nerves like nails-on-chalkboard. All of Bosco's chattering and mindless prattle was just as irritating, and she felt like strangling him every time he opened his mouth.

Why the hell do I feel so horrible today? she mentally groaned, struggling to ignore the searing headache that ripped through her head as blistering hot-pokers. To top it off, her stomach wickedly decided to join in the fun, sending wave after wave of thick nausea coursing around her midriff.

In the immense discomfort that plagued her weary body, all she knew was that 'home' and 'bed' were the most delicious sounding words that she could think of, and the hours left in her shift were dragging slower than a drunken snail.

Still his obnoxiously keyed-up self, Bosco reached the top of the stairway made his way around the corner while Faith slowly plodded up the last flight of steps, having to force her leaden, tired legs to go.

The flu... Maybe she had the flu. Charlie had come down with some bug last week, and knowing her and her finicky immune system, she would catch it. Oh this is so great..

"Faith?" Bosco, called out from the hall up ahead, his tone taking on one of an impatient nature. "Hurry up."

Shut the hell up, Faith inwardly moaned, wishing she could somehow make this quickly deteriorating day end. Just shut the hell up.

Ty shook the ballpoint pen vigorously, trying a new method to get the obstinate thing to release it's ink so that he could continue to fill out the report. The pen had other plans, though, and refused to write. He scribbled little circles across the bottom of the page, hoping the stimulation would help. Of course, it didn't. "Dammit," he cursed softly to himself.

"You almost finished?" Sully asked from behind him, his voice loud and gruff. No doubt, he was as irritated at the weather and eager to return to the RMP as Ty was.

"Uh, yeah," Ty answered distractedly, shaking the pen once again. "I think the ink froze in this thing..."

Sully let out a cynical chuckle, "Wouldn't doubt it, not in this weather anyway..." He fished around in his jacket and handed Ty another pen from the inside pocket. "Here."

They had arrived on the 'scene' about ten minutes before to find exactly what the dispatcher had described: a fender-bender. A flashy sports car had misjudged the distance to the stoplight and skidded across the icy street into a beat-up old Pontiac. No big deal -- they'd seen this type of accident a thousand times, right? No, of course there had to be a dispute about who was responsible for the smashed bumpers, the two men fighting and arguing loudly amongst themselves, and then with the two officers.

"Thanks," Ty mumbled, scratching out the final lines of the ticket hurriedly, not caring that in his haste, his handwriting was nearly illegible. It was all he could do to not throw the ticket book down and call it a day. Mess after mess of stupidity and moronic behavior had inundated his day, and now a seriously displeased driver was glaring angrily at him as though he were the Antichrist.

He ripped the yellow sheet of paper out from underneath his own pink copy, and handed it to the disgruntled recipient, the middle-aged driver of the flashy sports car and also the man that Ty and Sully had deemed liable in the end. Tempted to be equally as rude, Ty took a deep breath and struggled to remain professional and competent in lieu of the frustration that pushed at his tolerance. "Try and be more careful next time, okay?" he advised smoothly. "This snow is pretty dangerous."

"No, really?" the man snapped sarcastically, sneering and frowning irately at Ty, as if the young enforcer had caused the problems that had left the fellow so cantankerous. "Thanks so much for the tip, officer. "

"Yeah, no problem," Ty shot back quickly, his tone warning, then turned and muttered under his breath, "Idiot."

His frustrated comment wasn't lost though, and he received a knowing smile from his partner. Sully understood. Sometimes people just sucked.

Bosco punched the doorbell with the palm of his hand, not bothering to remove his glove to use a finger. Faith had finally made it up the stairs after God-knows-how-long, casually strolling up the last few steps in no apparent rush. She now stood to his left, glaring at the door as if her eyes could drill a hole right through it.

"Who is it?" the same shaky voice asked again, for the second time in just minutes.

Dumb-ass...

"Who the hell do you think it is?" Bosco scoffed. "It's the police, remember? You just buzzed us in!"

He rolled his eyes dramatically and shook his head. "Can you believe this guy?" he hissed to his partner, his face a mixture of amused frustration. This guy is some kind of moron...

Faith just raised her brow and shrugged her shoulders, her face displaying an edgy aggravation, still obviously pissed at the world or whatever it was that she was upset with. "You know what, Bosco? Today I can..."

The cruiser lurched as Sully pulled it neatly into the parking space and shoved his foot on the brake; nearly spilling the heatless coffee that sat perched precariously in the cup holder. His gloved hand shifted the stick quickly into 'park' as he simultaneously unbuckled, and then reached for the door handle to leave.

"Whoa, whoa, where's the fire?" Ty asked amusedly, interested in the reason his friend was in such a hurry. This kind of behavior from his lackadaisical, easy-going partner was not a usual occurrence, and only assisted in tremendously stimulating Ty's curiosity. "What's the hurry?"

"Nothing," Sully said, his tone as flat as his bold-faced lie would allow.

Ty though, could not be fooled, and the statement just instilled his inquisitiveness. "Oh, c'mon, man - you're moving faster than you have in years... You have a big night planned with Tatiana?" he asked, grinning and raising his brow wickedly.

Sully's recent 'romance' with his neighbor, a mysterious foreign girl, had piqued Ty's interest on more than one occasion, although the somewhat-reclusive Sully rarely relinquished anything of any significance.

As he'd hoped, his prying remark lit a mischievous gleam in Sully's eye, and Ty received a low growl and a sloppily suppressed smile from his partner. "Wouldn't you like to know..." he mumbled as he exited the car.

Ty quickly followed, eager to continue the conversation, his eyes burning with interest and his infectious grin illuminating his handsome face. "So, you two going out on the town?"

"What? In this weather?" Sully snorted as they wove through the crowded precinct house, dodging fellow officers and criminals alike. "I don't think so..."

"Ahhh," Ty started knowingly, drawing the word out and winking, "Stayin' at home then, huh?"

"Ty..." Sully sighed exasperatedly at his young partner, rolling his eyes in an obvious display of his annoyance, but his expression smirked with jollity, nevertheless. "Enough, okay?"

"Yeah, whatever, man," Ty waved him off, and still smiling unthinkingly, followed his partner into the near-empty locker room. The strong, spicy smells of aftershave and Icy Hot instantly assaulted his senses in a comforting, but familiar, wave as he snaked around a few of the metal benches to his locker. "It's nice to know you still have your mack on."

"Oh, gross."

Bosco slammed his locker door shut and shook his head in disgust, making his presence loudly known. "As if this day wasn't bad enough, now we have to hear about Sully havin' mack. Wonderful."

"You got a lady friend, Sullivan?" piped Ross as he entered the room shedding his hat and gloves.

"Yeah...Ta-ti-ya-na..." Ty nodded, playfully drawing out each syllable of her exotic-sounding name.

"Davis..." Sully growled at his partner for initiating the embarrassing conversation, his surly features exhibiting his understandable discomfiture and displeasure.

Faith, who was quietly getting together her things the whole time, stood and made a slow line for the door. Her shoulders were slouched, eyes dull and void of any emotion. Bosco took note of this and loudly voiced his opinion. "You goin' home, Faith? You should get some rest -- you look like hell."

She turned and gave him a half-hearted glare. "Thanks, Bos. I appreciate it. Really," she said as sarcastically as she could manage, giving her indecorous partner a long, hard look.

"Ouch, Boscorelli, pull your foot out of your mouth..." Ross chided, shaking his head.

"What? She looks tired! Look at her!"

"Bosco..." Faith warned. "One more word and I'll kick your ass so hard you'll have my foot in your mouth!" she snapped and flounced out of the room, obviously in no mood for the typical nightly banter.

"See'ya, Faith," Davis called after her as she left. He zipped his heavy winter coat up to his neck and closed his locker, then announced his departure. "I'm outta here - later."

"Yeah...right," Bosco replied distractedly, eager to leave and go home. Half a six-pack of ice-cold beer and a hot shower awaited him - just the ticket for such a boring and tedious day.

To Be Continued... Angst to come... ;) So, yeah, tell me what you think! Should I continue? I love hearing from you all!