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Darkness Falls *Special chapter* (Paul and Rebbeca piece) [Feb. 8th, 2006|09:58 pm]
[mood |cold]
[music |TV]

This is not exactly a chapter of the fic, but I consider it as a cut scene, like those DVD special features. It stabilish a background of an agent who will be mentioned in the future. So, it’s not obligatory reading. Why I cut it from the 4th Chapter? Because I couldn’t place it in the fanfiction.

I was being selfish when I started to write, the characters are from a TV show that was cancelled and their UST were too disturbing so I needed to write. Yes Rofy, it’s a Paul and Rebecca piece. I hope you like it.

Fanfiction: Darkness Falls

Author: Shirley Parker

This chapter is dedicated to you Rofy... Your reviews are lovely girl . And your emails.

A special thanks to WOATCAPIITON for being my beta. Thank you very much *hugs*.

The inside don't belong to me... otherwise it wouldn't air on FOX .

Special Chapter: Make me lose control

Rebecca Locke started to type avidly, her fingers dancing over the keys of her laptop. She would break her expensive computer for sure if she didn’t slow down, but the vehemence and energy she put into the act of profiling always grounded her, making problems disappear.

For a brief moment she succeeded, spacing out and submerging in the killer’s profile, forgetting even her own whereabouts.

She was in home on a rainy Tuesday afternoon, something almost astonishing, considering the amount of time she spent on work. Okay... liked to spend on work. It was undeniable, the fact that the FBI’s office was something she could call a refuge, contrasting profusely with her apartment, where she could see old and haunting ghosts of her childhood...

But a day off was a blessing in disguise. Under the current circunstances; it allowed her to “relax” and write the sordid details of an unresolved case that emerged in NY, without having to worry about personal problems.

The last killings occured miles away from LA and San Francisco. Why?

Did these women suffer in the hands of their abductor like I did? Before they died?

Shaking her head she started to write notes for FBI agent Sarah Green, someone she was familiar with. Rebecca met her once in quantico and they become aquainted, occasionaly exanging emails about the darkness of the human mind and sharing interesting criminalistic articles. She smiled when remembered their chats, there was some sort of openness between them, resulting in an instant empathy towards each other. Bad memories semed to haunt Sarah’s dreams deeply too; Rebecca could sense disturbance under her controlled façade.

They connected through pain.

Maybe in the end people were all damaged, traumatized in their own unique way.

“There were always those who didn’t have deep scars, Rebecca, the people who usually try to fix everything desperately around.” Paul said, leaving the room right after Mel called for him. They had a lead to pursue.

She could bet he was one of ‘them’. What Paul didn’t know was sometimes nothing can mend the scars. There were birds that would never fly, she concluded.

There is no hope? No hope at all for you agent Locke?

Rebecca sighed, the ghosts sounded like better company, more compelling than any human interaction. While she typed the words “killer”, “M.O.”, “behaviour” and a series of terms overly used in her reports, she refused to allow her personal issues to invade her mind. It was a great feeling.

Paul Ryan for example, was her current major personal problem.

She could still feel his heat under the wrinkled sheets.

Rebbeca haltingly opened the door, staring at her co-worker, Paul Ryan, with some sort of fake disblief. Her eyes focused on the lobby of her apartment for a minute, trying to catch a glimpse of her other co-workers, but no-one else was there. This definitely wasn’t a social or work ‘reunion’, it wasn’t even an innocent friendly visit. If all he wanted was to talk, he would search for Mel, even Danny. Not her.

She knew why he was there, and her heart accelerated at the thought.

Rebecca couldn’t deny it, they’d been dancing around, avoiding the sensitivity of the subject for a long time: Their mutual attraction was beyond evidence, it was an instinctive act. Just like profiling, it was a mix of counciouness and faith on the uncertain. A thing people could take for granted.

Blame it on the case, Rebecca, whatever happens blame, blame it on the gruesome case you had today. It hit home, his to be more precise. That’s why he is here, that’s why you’re drowning in him.

Web managed to get under his skin… again, bringing his personal pain to the surface in order to solve the case. Web was a puppet master, an amazing agent, yet manipulative and occasionaly cruel.

But what she could do? Talk to Paul? She really didn’t know what to do, besides stare at him, waiting for some sort of answer. How could she concentrate when all she managed to do was think about him touching her?... His soft, but still strong hands caressing her skin?

She didn’t have any answers... maybe even he didn’t know why.

Rebecca checked her report twice, everything seemed to be in the right place. Profiling wasn’t an exact science, it needed common sense, an understanding of criminal minds, enough emotional distance as possible, though you never really get that far, instinct and luck.

It was too close to love, maybe.

She sent the email. Maybe the reply would occupy her mind for a while.


Paul Ryan tried to concentrate on his task, carefully re-adding page thirty-two of the first case file of the day for the 100th time, still not able to figure anything out. The pile of reports he needed to revise were growing rapidly, but the courage to start to read them was non-existent. All he could think was the events of last night.

It was a curse.

He couldn’t stop staring at Rebecca, his mind still digesting the thoughts that lead him there. He needed a minute to be rational, 60 seconds.

It wasn’t too much to ask.

The truth hits him, weighing down on him heavily. He’s been repressing things that finally lead him to reach his breaking point. It was a predictable act on his part, human even, and he felt weak, unabble to break the pattern it would eventually form.

Too late my friend, he thought. You’re already here.

Since his wife filed for a divorce, there wasn’t much more for him to hold onto anyway, no right and wrong debates, no loyalty or some lame excuse to avoid the inevitable.

Web knew it all along, even before him... saw it in the first moment he observed their interaction. His boss probably saw the strange effect Rebecca had on him before his knowledge, using it for sure more than once. And Paul played his game all along: Hel battled his feelings, masking his interest on Rebecca and the urge to protect her, when he did it anyway. He lied about the real reasons for his protectiveness, even jealousy... then he was lost.

He was screwed, simple as that.

So he kissed her. He didn’t have any other choice.

As she reciprocated, the kiss intensified, followed quickly by discarded clothes, and more kisses... Sensual kisses, the tension finally being released, his tongue entangled with hers.

He heard her mumbling something about not being with many men (not really surprising) while she accepted him passively; there was still traces of insecurity in her acts. But her body awakened instantly when he started to suck the skin of her neck, like as an internal switch had been flicked and she began to grind back at him, her fingers traveling around his body, surprisingly inflicting an almost umbereable load of pleasure and desire. He desired her, how could he not?

She seemed so delicate, like a porcelain doll.

He understimated her strenght once more, Webb was once again right. She was strong, there was much more things forged in her pain.

The conclusion he got was that he wasn’t just touching Rebecca Locke, he was with Becky George too. The woman who was kidnapped when she was a young girl, the young girl who beat the guy that took her..

It was awhile before he was able to establish the right rhythm, but once he got it, the ecstasy of the moment overtook them... Her right hand started to grip her bed frame, silently approving what they were doing. It was the first time she really lost control since he met her... and it wasn’t a game.

It was real.

He could see her features changing, her moans increasing softly, begging for more. She was almost there, he thought, and he knew he was right as he felt her muscles contracting. There was a compatibility with her that he’d never shared with other woman before.

There was fire under Rebecca’s sweet demeanor and he couldn’t wait to see it, taste it.

He was certain of his feelings now, although he really didn’t know what to do next.

Rebecca kissed him again, biting his lower lip, laughing (maybe for the first time in years) about the fact that she had his DNA under her fingernails.

He brought her past up for a moment, but she refused to talk.

“Web knows I’m always going to try to fix you,” He confessed earnestly, “He won’t hesitate to use it once he knows”.

She stopped talking, pretending to be asleep.

“I’m thinking maybe this was a mistake Paul” She says hours latter when they were both “awake”. She was scared off course, he made her feel like she was Becky George for the first time since she was abducted.

So she needed to think.

“Still thinking about the divorce?” Mel asked, preoccupied with him.

She had no idea.