Five Senses – The Way to Awakening

Setting: Takes place just after the S2 finale and points thereafter. A variation on a theme and slightly more realistic version of how Crews and Reese might deal with the revelations of One.

Pairing: Crews & Reese - as it should be.

Rating: T+ (a little racy, but nothing graphic).

Chapter One - Touch

It was well past midnight when he crept quietly into Reese's hospital room. Everyone else was forced to leave when visiting hours concluded, so Crews thought it was safe to check on her; the night held solace and privacy from others and she was sure to be sleeping, so he would not have to cope with that look in her eyes – the one that scared him. There was something about the way she gazed at him that day that he knew would be his undoing.

It began the instant Roman's man pulled her from the car and they linked eyes after weeks apart. Seeing her deep brown eyes was like drinking from a clear pool of water after weeks of stumbling thirsty in a barren desert. He craved her eyes in a way that made it impossible to look away. He followed her with his eyes until he could no more. The fact that she who rejected any touch, reached for him, made him know his imagining was not one-sided. He had been missed. But the look she gave him as they were reunited was something he was not prepared for. It was more than gratitude, beyond that….it spoke of affection, adoration perhaps even the love he was trying to deny. Her eyes were softer and full of wonder and amazement, at him, with him, for him and that was too much, too real, too raw for him.

In that moment he hid, turning his eyes to the blinding light of the sun so that when the tears came she would not mistake them as being for her.

It wasn't something he wanted to do; it was something he had to do. In the three weeks they'd been apart, he'd missed many things. They came thinly to him, like the hint of a fragrance you couldn't quite name in the air, a color you couldn't really describe, a taste like nothing else on earth and her eyes that day seared those things into his psyche.

To combat it, he surrendered himself to the dull, but lengthy interrogation from IAD - it was almost a relief from bearing the strain of her scrutiny. IAD knew nothing, they had nothing; he batted their barbs aside like harmless pieces of fluff. Instead his mind continued to replay those moments in the orange grove over and over again. When IAD finally gave up and released him, not sure they could afford another costly mistake for the city; he went home, he showered and then he went to her.

He knew she was safely in the care of medical staff; Tidwell would hover all day making her cranky. He could almost hear her grumbling tirade at being fussed over and cared for. He had no doubt that Dani's mother would have been escorted to the hospital to see his tough little partner, but Charlie needed to see Reese for himself - so he went anyway, despite the risk of having to see that look from her again.

Her room was dark, quiet and still as a graveyard at midnight. But his partner slept fitfully under creased white sheets and her dark hair and tanned skin contrasting with starched white of the linen. Her ghosts and demons haunted her. How many of those preceded him and how many were his fault? His hand wavered over her as he fought his impulse to stroke her hair and face, knowing Reese did not like to be touched. He settled for placing his long pale fingers next to her curled hand on the bedside and felt the warmth radiating from her.

She struggled in her sleep, making him sigh at his inability to help her.

He'd notice how much of a fighter she was from the beginning. She fought for every ounce of respect from the men they worked with. She'd fought an addiction to drugs and her she waged a daily battle with alcoholism. She fought her father almost constantly, sometimes over him - he knew this. She whispered her fear to him in those moments before the department descended upon them in that orange grove – that Nevikov killed her father.

She feared her father even loathed him and yet, she still loved him; her tearstained cheeks bore testament to it as she confessed it in hushed tone guiltily in the hot sun and thick dust. She let him comfort her with comments that her old man was too tough to kill, but deep down they both knew Roman killed many people and Jack Reese could be among that unknown number. He promised her they would find the truth together, unable to deny her anything.

And she who fought so hard, trusted no one and never accepted help; asked for his help, longed for his trust and with her choice and his acceptance came the closeness they had both resisted but could no longer deny.

He was so caught up in his internal musings that he was surprised by a strong, soft female voice, which came to him from the darkened corner of the room, but he instantly recognized the timbre and cadence. It was Reese's voice, so he knew it had to be Dani's mother.

"Go ahead, do as you wish. Touch her," she coached.

He never stopped staring at his partner as he argued in a low tone. "She doesn't like to be touched."

"Your touch will bring her peace. You know this," she urged him to do what he knew he should not.

"It's not…I shouldn't," he talked more to himself than Dani's mother who sat quite still in the dark. He smoothed the sheet and turned to face her, but stopped as Dani whimpered in her sleep.

"Why shouldn't you give her what it is obvious you both want?"

"I'm dangerous for her, dangerous to her," Crews explained his gaze wandering back to Reese.

"Love is always dangerous," she said cryptically.

"Love?" Charlie stammered. "No, I'm not her… She has a…um… There's another guy who…" Words failed him and again Dani wrestled in her sleep.

"Then why are you here?"

Crews stared mutely into the dark knowing there were no answers only questions.

He was unable or unwilling to give voice to his emotion because to give it voice was to acknowledge and feed it. The faint love he felt that had grown from the moment they pulled her from the white Cadillac in his orange grove – grew into the raging, beating one that hammered in his chest. His heart beat with purpose once more – for her, but he caged it and kept it mute whilst trying to walk back the hands of time and force his emotions back into their cage.

He breathed deeply trying to restore the balance she stole from him, but then Dani called to him, his name on her lips once again, "Crews." He was powerless to disobey.

"I'm here," he responded and the rest of the world faded as her eyes opened.

"You just can't stop talking can you," she teased her voice coarse from sleep.

His grin rewarded her and his blue eyes shone in the dim light of her room.

"I didn't mean to wake you," he offered gently, "I was just talking to your mom." He looked behind him and found no one there.

Dani's raised brows showed her skepticism, "Crews, my mom left hours ago."

Crews appeared perplexed at the vanishing act. He paused before speaking and thought hard about what he'd just experienced. He'd been so long without sleep and so singularly focused he might have hallucinated the entire exchange. Just whom was he talking to? Himself? Dani? Was he trying to convince himself he loved her or talk himself out of it?

"I don't know why I'm here," he ventured.

"To finish what we started earlier," Dani informed him appearing wise beyond her relative years as she waited for him to catch up. She knew in the instant she saw him standing whole and alive against all possible odds that she'd never leave him again. Right or wrong their destinies were tied together in a way she did not understand but felt to her core.

"Finish what?" He moved away obliquely trying to create space and distance between them.

"Uh..how many men and women are in the LAPD, Crews?" she pushed.

"Pbbftt, I dunno," he avoided, "lots, I guess."

"Guess. Give me a number," she demanded pushing herself into a sitting position.

"Twenty, maybe twenty-five thousand," he responded powerless under her spell.

"Twenty five thousand sworn, give or take, but you were the one who came for me," she got stronger as she spoke, "the only one who came for me. And I knew you would. I knew only you could," she pressed harder.

"Reese," his voice pled with her to leave it alone.

Something in her face told him she would not, she could not - she was awake now. She knew it and he could see it. Her awakening occurred slowly over the period of time she was away, but she was different now – stronger. She compelled truth from him – he could no longer hide from her.

"I had to. It was my fault," his emotion got the better of him. "He took you to get to me and I needed to make sure you were safe." His voice returned and his confidence with it. "I never wanted you to get caught up in this – whatever this is," he promised.

"Too late," she countered, "We are both caught up in this. I'm your partner. I never should have left you and I won't be doing it again."

"Reese," he implored again, a whine evident in his request. He knew he would lose to his strong willed young partner, but it was, in truth, a battle he wanted to lose. He missed the smell of her, the warmth of her wry smile, the bite of her caustic wit and a thousand other things he'd never realized until she was gone. "I was thinking that maybe being partnered with me isn't so good for you," he tested waiting for her scathing reply. She'd never let him win, but he had to at least make an attempt.

"That's why I do the thinking, Crews. Not you," she warned dismissively, "besides you promised we'd find out what happened to my father – together," she finished darkly.

He fought the smile her dark tone brought – he'd missed that too. He'd missed it all - her pushy demanding tone, the constant need to control – to drive – to command, her threatening glares, heavy sighs and the intimation that all 5'1" of her could push his larger over six foot frame around through the sheer force of her will.

"Okay, you win. But I'd better go. You need to rest." He let her keep thinking that and convinced himself that if he kept her close he could keep her safe. This time he did smile and she rewarded him with a shy, genuine smile of her own. Trouble – he thought – big trouble. He was head over heels for that dark little angel of his and she probably knew it.

Two weeks later, she was back at work, but something strange was going on between Dani and her illicit lover, their Captain. She was giving him a shoulder so cold he might just get frostbite. Charlie danced around the edges of her anger, feeding her coffee and trying to keep them from having a public blowout at work.

Crews alone knew the extent of Tidwell's anxiety and the level of risk Tidwell took in providing assistance to Charlie when Roman had taken her. The man swallowed his pride and asked for Crews' help. Charlie knew it had to be a blow to the man's ego – his girlfriend on tape asking for another man, but he swallowed it and welcomed Crews' assistance. He seemed to know the depth of Charlie's commitment to his partner, but neither of them appreciated how deep the link between the two detectives extended. He'd tried to inquire with Tidwell, but the Captain just shrugged and dragged his hands through his long hair.

"When you figure her out let me know," Tidwell sighed and stomped off.

So finally, Charlie broached the subject with her, in the car, where she couldn't storm off. "Wanna tell me what's up with you and Tidwell?"

She tried to burn him down with her glare, but it bounced off his sunny disposition.

"You don't scare me any more Reese," he confessed. "To be honest, you never did scare me, but I tried to be politely intimidated on account of you being in such a tight spot." He paused and then asked the question again, "What's up with you and Tidwell?"

"It's none of your business," she replied testily.

"You're right," he admitted. "He's none of my business. You and him – that's none of my business, but…" he paused for effect, "you? You are my partner. I care about you and I'm making it my business," he held firm and then paused again before continuing. Then he gave her the easy out, knowing full well she wouldn't take it, "that is unless you don't wanna be partners anymore?"

"Just because we're partners, doesn't mean you get to stick your nose in my personal life," she shot back angrily.

"Oh, yes it does, sweetheart." He pushe. "It gives me exactly that right. Everything is connected – you are connected to me and that makes it my business. Now what's bugging you Reese?"

She heaved another heavy sigh at him and tossed another dark glare at him.

"Come on," he teased. "Spill it. And that look? Not even worthy of you," he chuckled.

"You don't have to take such perverse pleasure in this," her annoyed voice came back to him as she pinched the bridge of her nose to stave off the coming headache.

He didn't answer her, partly because her comment didn't require a response and partly he didn't want to acknowledge her hunch that he took a personal interest in her relationship with Tidwell. In the deepest recesses of his mind, behind doors he closed off and barricaded Charlie knew that his interest in his partner went beyond the professional and they had for a long time now.

Moments ticked by and neither of them said anything, but Crews knew how to wait. He'd spent a lot of time alone. He knew that if he waited she'd tell him – she wanted to tell him. So he waited, pulling a bright red apple from his pocket, he began shining it on his coat sleeve.

"So help me god," she breathed a ragged sigh, "you bite into that apple and you're walking home." Her threat was just a roadblock, but he gave her that much and pocketed the apple just the same.

"Do you remember how long I was at the FBI?" she ventured.

"Uh, yeah," he gave her a little, "something on the order of three weeks…."

She waited, stared hard at him, her eyes inscrutable, and she laid him bare forcing him to give her the rest. "Okay, fine…three weeks, four days, fifteen hours – give or take," he admitted telling her that he missed her every minute of her absence without actually saying the words.

She smiled slightly, but he caught it. "All they ever asked me about was you," she admitted in a hoarse whisper. "You and my father. You and Rayborn. You and those murders," she confessed.

"I'm sorry that you had to go through that," he said guiltily looking at his shoes.

"It's not your fault," she deflected. "It was always about you."

He couldn't help the way his head snapped up when she used the same words Rayborn had. But she noticed his reaction.

She held his eyes. "I think he knew," she breathed. Tears welled in the eyes of a woman who did not cry. "I think he knew," she whispered. She did have to say who he was – Charlie knew. She thought Tidwell knew.

Her twisted little brain and lack of self-worth worked that way. The assignment to the FBI was about him; Tidwell's interest in her was about him. It was always about him – Charlie Crews. It was the way Dani's brain worked….because who would want her anyway? She was a screw-up, an addict, an alcoholic and she believed those things in a way that her fears reinforced.

There was no sense in arguing with her – that was how Reese's brain was wired. He had to find another way. He couldn't help the reflex that compelled him to capture the escaped teardrop with the pad of him thumb. The sigh that escaped her made his heartbreak and he flattened his palm against her cheek feeling the smooth warm skin there.

She knew what he was doing. Charlie touched her in ways no one else did. It had nothing to do with sex, not yet anyway. Her whispered scolding was light but still thick with emotion, "do you always have to touch everything?" She tried to laugh but it sounded more like a sniffle.

"Only you…" he replied in a moment of absolute honesty, "I only have to touch you."

Then he broke contact and threw his shields up again. This was dangerous for her, dangerous for them both. He pushed back from what he desperately wanted and steeled himself. He cleared his throat and the tenderness between them evaporated like morning dew before the bright sun.

The conversation continued in the car several hours later when it became clear that she was not going to let go of her anger with their Captain. It was effecting their working relationship with their boss, which was one of the many reasons the Department frowned on dating your boss, your partner and other cops in general.

"So you don't trust him?" he said levelly with what he thought was sufficient distance established between them.

Earlier they had been there in the same moment, the same breath and he took himself out of it. He wrenched himself away from her and he told himself it was to protect her, but it still hurt – he could see the flash of pain cross her face and eyes and then it was gone as her own high walls went up with lightning speed.

She nodded answering his question, not trusting her voice. She'd trusted in Tidwell, opened up to him and he'd betrayed her – or so she believed. It made Charlie uncharacteristically angry with the man even though he did not share her fears – just for having reinforced her opinion of herself as not worthy. Dani Reese punished herself for sins he did not know about and things he could never envision, but her pain was real to him – as real as his own.

"I think we should consider getting you another partner," he bargained knowing she'd fight him.

"I wish you'd stop saying that. Why would I do that? How would it help?" she responded curiously, but without the anger her challenges normally held. "Do you honestly think that what's going on here," she intimated with a back and forth motion of her finger between them, "will be over when we stop working together?"

Straight for the jugular – Dani could be brutally honest, even vicious sometimes and she'd cut right through his bullshit and laid all her cards on the table. She was calling his bluff – she was all in and he was blown away.

Shock and surprise registered on his face, he couldn't hide from her – not anymore. Something else happened to Reese in their time apart, she'd recognized their deep bond and their infinite connection and she wasn't backing down. It wasn't her style.

"No," he answered simply, honestly and felt the tightness in his chest ease, "I don't." He gave her the truth she deserved. "I'd like to think this," he used his finger in the same back and forth gesture between them, "we - will never be over."

She rewarded him with a genuine smile and then shocked him by winking, just before she pulled her shades over her eyes hiding them from him. She added, "Yeah, that what I thought," before turning the car's ignition switch over and sparking the engine to life.

She wasn't beaten, broken or bowed by being kept captive. She'd emerged stronger, more sure than he'd ever seen her. Her cockiness was infinitely more attractive than her diffidence and even then he'd loved her.