Title: Something Old, Something New

Rating: PG-13 for some mild swearing. Everything else is fine though.

Setting: three years after the series finale

Summary: Faith's birthday doesn't look too promising. Her boyfriend ditches her, and Bosco takes her out instead.

Feedback: yes, please!

Disclaimer: I own nothing. I make no money. Please don't sue.

Story Notes: I've been sitting on this for a long time. It was originally very different, but that story got lost in one of my folders at school, so I had to re-write it. It's sort of angsty fluff. I don't know, I just needed to fix Bosco and Faith's relationship, so this is what happened. This was meant to be a one shot but it outgrew that, and is now three parts. It's the first Third Watch fic I've ever done, so try to be kind. Enjoy!

Detective Faith Yokas sat in the 79th precinct of Bed Stuy, Brooklyn in a borrowed desk, filling out paperwork on a lowlife she'd just locked away for a double homicide. The case was in this area, though she didn't work out of this precinct, and while she didn't like sitting in somebody else's desk, she'd rather not have to lug the paperwork some place else. She just wanted to get it over with quickly. It wasn't too late, probably around 8:30 or so, but she was ready to end her day. She smiled thinking of how her boss and boyfriend, Captain John Miller, was going to be taking her out for her birthday that night. He'd been unable to do it the last two years now because of the job, but this year he'd promised to put all work off until the next day and give her his full attention for the night. She didn't get his full attention often, their jobs taking up much of their time, so today she'd sent Emily to her father's place and was looking forward to all John's attention.

Her back to the door, she was unaware she was being watched by a certain police officer who'd just been given the night off after being checked out at the hospital for a shoulder injury he'd received earlier that day. It wasn't anything serious and was hardly sore, but the lieutenant, well aware of the officer's reputation of hiding physical pain, had given him the rest of the night off as a precaution. He'd argued about it, saying he was really fine this time, but was overruled and was asked to give Detective Yokas a message before he left. He knocked softly on the door to alert her to his presence.

"Hang on, John, I'll be done in a minute," she said.

"Uh, sorry to disappoint, but…" came a voice that was familiar, but certainly not John's.

Faith spun around in her chair to find Officer Maurice Boscorelli standing in the doorway. "Oh, uh, hi, Bosco. I thought you were…"

"Somebody else, yeah," he finished her sentence awkwardly.

Things hadn't been the same since their falling out three years ago. They saw each other occasionally at work and were polite when they had to talk or work together, but they were not close as they had once been. Partners – best friends even – to awkward acquaintances in a matter of weeks. They'd been through fights before, but never like the one that ended everything. The eyesight, the impossible request, the yelling, the shooting, more yelling, the betrayal of trust, and their own pride had broken the bond they'd forged that was thirteen years strong. In those thirteen years, they'd been to hell and back, and nobody else had ever come between them, but they'd managed to come between themselves. They'd always thought they'd be there for each other. They never saw the fallout coming. Each blamed the other for everything, but each also found that they blamed themselves for everything. In reality, they knew that they were both out of line, and both missed the friendship they'd shared for over a decade. Neither of them was a coward but neither of them had ever summoned the courage to express their feelings out loud, and so time went on, until all real communication had ended and they were reduced to the job, small talk, and forced smiles.

"You need something?" she asked Bosco quietly.

"I've got a message for you," he said, walking over to where she was sitting and handing her the note the lieutenant had given him.

"Oh thanks. That was nice of you," she smiled a little bit, and then took a closer look at him. "How come you're out of uniform during the shift?"

"I hurt my shoulder this afternoon. Well, I didn't hurt it much, it's not bad. But Lieu doesn't believe me. He thinks I hide all physical pain, so he sent me home to recover for the night," he answered easily.

She quirked an eyebrow at him. "But you're really fine this time?" she asked him.

"Yeah, I'm really fine."

"That's good. Now you just have a night off."

He nodded and watched her as she opened the note he'd handed her. He was turning to leave when he heard her mutter, "Dammit. Again. Something. Bastard."
Bosco turned back around in time to see Faith hurl the pen she was holding across the room in angry frustration and crumble the note in her hand. "What's up? Is everything all right?"

She looked angry, but her voice came out quietly, "Yeah, it's nothing."

"What is it?"

She hesitated before telling him, but finally said, "John promised to take me out for my birthday tonight and he's passed me up to do a press conference for the eleven o'clock news."

Bosco wasn't sure what to say; he was never good at finding words for situations like these. "I'm sorry," he settled on the comforting route. "I'm sure it's just a one time deal."

Faith smirked. "This is the third year in a row he's done something like this, actually," she said.

"Oh." So much for being comforting. "Well, I, uh…"

"Don't worry about it, Bosco, I know you suck at consoling people," she said, shrugging. "It's just…I don't know why I let him do this to me is all."

Faith knew that John Miller had blown her off time and time again. She was reminded of it whenever he did it. The problem was that in the time they spent together, Faith forgot about all the times he blew her off, just glad that he was spending time with her. She never mentioned it, he got away with it, life went on and Faith forgot about it until the next time he did it. The cycle had been repeating itself for quite some time.

"You shouldn't let him," Bosco said. He'd known that Faith had started dating a guy named Miller about six months after their falling out. He didn't remember how he'd heard that, but he figured if Faith liked him and he treated her well, then good for her. He didn't think Faith would pick another jerk, but apparently she had.

"Yeah, well, I'm going to head home then," she said, and while she'd sounded almost normal, Bosco's trained ear could hear the sadness most people would have missed. He felt sorry for her and while he meant to leave he couldn't help staying and watched as she looked through her purse.

John had planned to pick her up, so Faith wasn't sure she had the money for a cab to get home. A press conference? He'd ditched her birthday dinner for a press conference? What a son of a bitch. After counting her cash and deciding she had enough to get home, she asked Bosco, "You know the best place to hail a cab around here?"

Faith didn't know Bed Stuy well. She knew it well enough to work there, but not the finer points, like the best place to hail a cab and the best places to eat. Bosco knew Bed Stuy much better than she did, having worked there for three years.

But Bosco looked at her like she was crazy. "No way am I letting you wait for a cab in Bed Stuy. No way," he said. He could tell Faith was about to protest this outburst, but he cut her off. "Don't go all militant feminist on me. I'll take you home in my car."

"I'm perfectly capable of –"

"Not in Bed Stuy, Faith. Not in the dark. You'll get in my car and I'll take you home. End of discussion."

Faith looked surprised by this bizarre act of chivalry, but only nodded for an answer. She was too upset with the thought of spending her birthday alone for the third year in a row to really come up with the energy to battle Bosco's stubbornness. She filed the papers she'd been working on, picked up her purse, put on her coat, and followed Bosco out to his car.

They got in, buckled their belts, and Bosco started his beloved 1969 Mustang convertible. It was in good running condition with no scratches in the blue paint, and the white top was the original. Sure, he'd made a few changes, but for the most part, the car was as it was when it first came out. Bosco took good care of his car. Like his gun, he treated his car better than most of his girlfriends, as Faith had pointed out to him years earlier. Pulling out of the lot, he headed in the direction of Faith's apartment.

They sat in silence as the city lights passed them by, Bosco driving and Faith staring out the window. They had never really been good at sitting in silence back when they rode together in 55-David; one of them had always said something, even while they were fighting. But things were different now, and an uncomfortable silence reigned.
Bosco was dying to end the awkwardness, and took his eyes off the road for a moment to turn on the radio. His hand was half way to the console when he glanced at Faith, who was looking straight out the windshield. The headlights shining from another car going in the opposite direction illuminated her face, and Bosco saw a tear trickling down her cheek. She wiped it away quickly. If it was because she didn't want him to notice it, it was too late; he had already.

This all happened in the space of about a second and a half, and it took Bosco even less time to decide that he was pulling into the next restaurant or bar he saw. She was all broken up about her birthday dinner being cancelled, and as much as Bosco didn't want to act as though everything was okay between them again, because it wasn't, he'd never had the heart to see her cry. They finally came to a small place, and Bosco turned into the parking lot, stopping the car and putting it into neutral before taking out the keys.

"What are you doing?" Faith asked in a quiet voice.

"I'm taking you for a drink," he answered shortly, turning his head to look at her. He could have elaborated and told her why, but he didn't.

She looked back at him curiously, and for a moment she thought she saw him nearly smile, but decided she must have imagined it. Looking back out the window, she said, "Bosco, I'd just rather go home tonight."

He completely ignored her, putting the keys in his pocket and getting out of the car, shutting the door behind him. Faith rolled her eyes and sighed a little, but followed him out. There wasn't much else she could do anyway.

They entered the premise and saw that it wasn't just a bar, but it had small round tables with high chairs, the kind where you had to jump up into them carefully, because they also spun around. If you weren't careful, you could miss and land hard on your ass.

It was self-seating, and so Bosco led Faith over to one of the tables and each of them hopped in a chair. A waitress came over and dropped off a bowl of peanuts and two drink menus, and then left to let them choose something they wanted.

"Why are you doing this?" Faith asked Bosco after the waitress had gone.

"Because I saw you wipe a tear away in the car." Well, that was the truth. He probably wouldn't have made the decision to stop some place if he hadn't seen her crying.

"So what?"

"Listen, I know you're upset that you're spending your birthday alone, for apparently the third year in a row. I know you're sad and hurt that your boyfriend seems to care more about a press conference than he does about you," he elaborated. "You used to do the same thing when Fred forgot your birthday, or your anniversary, or something important like that. You got angry, you acted like it was nothing, but then you were sad for the rest of the day."

Faith didn't like to admit it, but he was right. She was surprised that he remembered her behavior so well, but she guessed that there were some things she still knew about his behavior too. Thirteen years was, after all, a very long time. "Yeah but –"

"Faith, you and I are having a drink for your birthday so you don't spend the rest of the night feeling terrible and I don't spend the rest of the night feeling like a heartless jerk. Enough said," Bosco cut her off with the same sort of finality he used when talking to perps.

"I appreciate it, but you don't have to do this," Faith said timidly, staring at the floor. "I'll be okay."

"I know I don't have to do it and I know you'll be okay," he answered in a softer voice than before, "But nobody deserves to feel unloved on their birthday. I know how that feels, and nobody deserves it."

Looking up from the floor, Faith whispered, "Bosco, we're not even really friends anymore."

He met her gaze, and in a quietly strong voice he answered, "We can pretend to be, just this once."

The shadows danced on the walls in the dimly lit pub, and Faith concentrated on those instead of Bosco. It was too much. From spending the night with John to spending the night with Bosco, it was all too much. She wondered if this was God's idea of sarcasm.

The waitress came back over. "What would you both like to drink?" she asked.

"I'll take a Jack Daniels on the rocks," Bosco said confidently. "What about you?" he looked at Faith.

"Bosco –"

"Order the drink, Faith. Just do it."

"Cosmopolitan," Faith told the waitress.

"Anything to eat?" the waitress asked again.

"There are things to eat?" Bosco asked, looking rather pleased with the idea.

The waitress smiled at his boyish excitement. "Yeah, there are things to eat. Didn't you see the sign on the wall?" she asked, pointing to a sign that was apparently the entire menu.

"Can I get a cheeseburger and fries?" Bosco asked eagerly, scanning the board.

"You bet. What about you, miss?" the waitress asked, turning to look at Faith again.

"Uh…" she looked at Bosco, and he nodded, letting her know it was okay, that he wouldn't mind. She answered, "I'll have a cheeseburger and fries too, please."

"Sure thing. I'll be back with your drinks and your food in a little bit," the waitress smiled and left.

"Thanks, Bosco," Faith smiled a little bit as the waitress walked away.

Bosco nodded. "Couldn't let my former best friend be alone on her birthday now, could I?"

Faith actually found this amusing. She wasn't going to ask, but curiosity overcame her. "So who's your current best friend?"

Bosco hesitated a moment, before finally answering, "I don't really have one."

"Oh."

"I have friends, but none…none like…none like you ever were, you know?" Bosco seemed to have trouble getting this sentence out.

"Yeah, I get it," Faith nodded. Bosco was looking down at the floor now, apparently embarrassed at this confession. Not wanting him to feel that way, Faith quickly added, "I haven't found a friend like you either."

"Nobody?" Bosco asked, looking up at her a little more hopefully than he probably should have.

"Nobody," Faith smiled at him. The sadness she felt about John abandoning her for his own personal glory on her birthday was evaporating as she spoke to Bosco – really spoke to Bosco – for the first time in three years. "What?" she joked, "You didn't want me to have any new friends after we split up?"

He chuckled a little, and said, "No, not really. I just…well, it was always just you and me, you know? You were the one constant in my life for thirteen years. I was so unstable after we split for such a long time. I didn't have anybody. I just didn't think you would have felt the same way."

"Oh, I was a mess," Faith assured Bosco with a grin on her face. "I really was."

"You never fell apart," Bosco said, thinking back on the breakdown he'd had in her arms some six years earlier. "That was always me."

"Well you can't say that anymore, because I fell apart. I actually cried," Faith confessed. "I missed you a lot. I didn't have anyone either. Well, I had Emily, and while I love her, she's not a friend like that."

The waitress came over with their drinks and food just then. Their conversation stopped for a few moments while they both started their meals, until Bosco said through a mouthful of cheeseburger, "So how long have you been dating this John Miller guy?"

"About two and half years. We started dating about six months after you and I stopped talking," Faith answered. Bosco knew all this, but thought it better to ask anyway. He'd sound like a stalker if he knew all this already. This was the first meaningful conversation they'd had in three years, and he didn't want it to turn south, like their last meaningful conversations had, before he was half way through his burger.

"Two and a half years?" Bosco said, acting surprised. "And he treats you like garbage?"

"He doesn't, really. He treats me well. Respects me and my job and my kids."

"So then why's he dumping you on your birthday for the third time?"

"He's just…I don't know. He's glory hungry about the job. Anything on the job that'll get him a little glory he'll do. The rest of his life stops. He's really gung-ho. A lot like you used to be before you grew up," she smiled at him.

"I didn't think you'd pick another jerk after Fred," Bosco said.

"John's not a jerk."

"If he acts like me before I grew up, he's a jerk," Bosco grinned between bites of his cheeseburger.

Faith looked at him and grinned back. "Touché."

"Dump him Faith," Bosco winked. "He's a jerk."

"Oh please. Besides, I always pick jerks. For example, I picked you."

Bosco put a fry in his mouth and chewed it slowly before asking. "What do you mean you picked me? We never dated."

"No, we didn't."

"So what did you mean?"

Faith narrowed her eyes a little. "You mean I never told you?"

"Told me what?"

"Why Fred left me. Why my marriage ended."

"No, you never told me that," Bosco said, watching her eat her own fries. "You just told me that you two were divorcing."

"Oh. I can't believe I didn't tell you…I was sure I did," she hesitated before asking, "Do you want to know?"

"To know what?"

"Why my marriage ended."

"Oh yeah," Bosco said. "Sure."

"Well, for one thing, he met somebody else…and the other reason he left me, well, the other reason was you."

"He cheated on you?"

"Yeah."

"What a scumbag."

"I think it was because of you. He was getting back at me for you."

"What do you mean me? We never dated," Bosco said.

He repeated the fact that they'd never dated as if Faith couldn't have figured this out on her own, but she ignored the remark.

"Well, you know when you had your breakdown? That's when he really started disliking you. I failed the sergeant's test because I was so worried about you that day. Fred didn't like that, and things got worse from there. Finally, when I went back to work after Cruz shot me, I insisted on being with you in 55-David. He didn't want me to go back to work at all, and when I insisted on being partners with you again, to go all the way back to the way it was, he totally flipped out. I think that's when it was finally over," Faith explained. She gave a small smile. "I effectively chose you over my husband and what he wanted."