Dying Embers

It was Independence Day and there wasn't a better view from the fireworks than from Detective Elizabeth Sawyer's roof. Don walked up the stairs with a cooler of beers and other types of alcohol. When he opened the door, he saw two figures nudging a grill into place. It took him a minute to realize one of the figures was Brett. It didn't look like her though, Don noticed. Gone were Brett's usual jeans and modest shirts. In their places, was a pair of very nice shorts and a tank top, showing off Brett's very long, lean legs and a figure that those shirts did no justice for. Brett turned around and smiled.

"'Bout time you got here", she said, giving him a hug. Don hugged her back. He didn't know the other guy who was moving the grill with Brett.
"Oh, Don, this is my boyfriend, Grayson Bartlett", Brett said, kissing the other guy on the cheek and smiling fondly at him.
"I'm Don", Don said, extending a hand. Grayson shook it stiffly. Don frowned. There was something off about this guy, he didn't really like him. Maybe it was that Brett wasn't working with a woman.
"Grayson, be nice", Brett scolded gently, a twinkle in her pretty blue eyes. Wait. Grayson Bartlett? He was one of the most notorious bachelors in New York, surely he was unworthy of someone as down-to-earth, hardworking, intellectual, and as real as Brett was.
"I am, babe", Grayson replied, dropping a kiss on her head.
"Been going on for three months now", Brett said proudly. Don smiled.
"Well, congratulations. Brett's not all that easy to handle", he replied. He poked Brett in the ribs, and she slapped his hands away, giggling.

"Oh, please! Like you're any better", she retorted, placing one hand on her slim hip.
"What're you talking about, Rodeo? I'm a total angel", Don replied, giving her a grin.
"More like a devil", Brett teased. She snatched the cooler from his hands and ran. Don took off after her, looping his arms around her waist and picking her up off the ground.
"Oh, Rodeo, don't you know not to mess with my beers?" he said. Brett let out a squeal and a giggle as she was lifted from the ground.
"But where's the fun in that?" she bantered back, that devilish glint in her eyes. Their banter had become routine. It was flirting, but they were professional on the clock. Don enjoyed Brett's company, she was witty. Grayson was glaring at them.
"Hey, Brett, I gotta go, babe", he said. Brett ran over and threw her arms around Grayson's neck and kissed him sloppily on the lips, exaggerating it. She was such a dork.

"Nice meeting you", Don called. Grayson glared at him before leaving curtly. Jerk. Brett sighed.
"He's not usually like this", she said. By now, the burgers were ready. Don grabbed two and stacked them high. Sawyer laughed at something Quinn said.
"Wow, Fox, you put chips in your burger?" Sawyer said, wrinkling her nose.
"It's really good! Don't knock it till you try it, Sawyer", Brett snapped. She sat down next to Don, watching the stars come out. She had a beer parked next to her thigh.
"Get ready to see some cool fireworks, Rodeo. Like nothing you've probably ever seen before", he said. Brett rolled her eyes.
"Yeah right, Yankee Doodle. Charleston had a great display of fireworks", she replied. The familiar colorful sparks lit up the sky. Afterwards, they all went home. Luckily, Don lived in the same building as Sawyer, so he didn't have to go far.

He was just about to fall asleep when he heard a knock on his door. He opened the door to see Brett. She was wearing a pair of jeans and a button-down shirt, but still managed to look incredible.
"You okay, Rodeo?" Don asked. He ushered her in. She was walking kind of stiff.
"Yeah, I just sparred and thought I'd come see if you're okay. You were drinking quite a bit tonight", she replied.
"You were sparring while intoxicated? Not a smart idea, Detective", he joked.
"Yeah, it was kind of rough", she replied. She looked absolutely horrid.
"Here, sit down. Who were you sparring with?" Don asked.
"Someone from the station", she replied, looking away quickly. He saw a light mark on her cheekbone in the lighting of his apartment, as well as bruises. She was lying.
"You're not alright, Brett", he said. He gently lifted her arm to examine it, but she yanked her arm away quickly.
"I'm fine, Flack", she replied.
"Who were you sparring with?" Don asked. Brett looked away.

"I told you, someone from the precinct", she replied.
"Who? Policy is that you don't hit your sparring partner across the face. Either you tell me, or I'm calling Sythe right now", he said.
"I got in a fight with Grayson", Brett said after a minute. Don's temper flared. How dare that piece of trash hit a woman? Who did he think he was?
"Let me see", Don said gently. This time, Brett let him examine her arms, neck, and face.
"Did he hit your back at all?" Don asked. Brett shook her head quickly. He gently prodded her ribs and watched her face twist with pain.
"Do you trust me at all, Brett?" he asked. She looked down, seemingly ashamed. There was nothing to be ashamed of.
"Here, let me see at least if you broke ribs. If I hurt you at all, lemme know", he said. Don hated himself for making her do this, but he had to. Brett undid the buttons on her shirt, easing it down to show her back. Blotches were starting to form on her pale skin.

"Here, lay down", Don told her. Brett obeyed, laying on her back. Don tried to keep himself from ogling her long, slim body as he gently prodded her ribcage, starting from the side of her chest, all the way down. When he reached the middle of her ribs, she winced. He alleviated the pressure slightly, until he reached the bottom of her ribs.
"They've gotten bruised. I hope you at least beat the crap out of him", Don said.
"Could you hurt someone you care about?" Brett shot back.
"If he gave half a damn about you, he wouldn't hurt you, Brett", Don replied. Brett sat up, buttoning her shirt angrily.
"You don't know a damn thing", she fired.
"Brett, you've worked domestic violence cases. If he did it once, it's going to happen again. I'll cuff you to the bed if it means you're not going back there tonight, got it?" Don said. He was desperate to save his partner from becoming a statistic. He wasn't supposed to let himself, but he was starting to care about Brett as more than a co-worker. They worked well together, it was easy being with her.

"Fine", Brett replied angrily. Don followed her into his room.
"We're talking in the morning about this", he said, tossing a T-shirt to her. Brett didn't say a word as she caught the T-shirt. He left the room, closing the door. A moment later, the door reopened. He tried not to stare at her as his shirt hit mid-thigh on her. Her legs were bare.
"I'll take the couch. I'm not putting you out in your own home", Brett said. Never before had her Southern accent irritated him, but it did now. He was sick of arguments.
"No. You're sleeping in that room", Don replied sternly. Brett crossed her arms.
"No, Don. I'm not", she argued. She was too stubborn.
"Yes. You are", he replied. They argued for the next five minutes before Don grabbed his cuffs, tossed her over his shoulder and walked into his room. He tossed her onto the bed, slapping the cuffs onto her wrist and the other to the bedpost.

"Good night, Brett", he said, staring down at a very incredulous and indignant Brett.
"You're seriously handcuffing me to a bedpost? Because you didn't get your way? Real mature", Brett said, her eyes flashing.
"Because it's the only way you'll listen", Don replied. Brett yanked at the bedpost angrily with one hand, smoothing down the T-shirt with her other hand and glaring up at him. She was slowly seeing he was right, he could tell.
"Now, good night. If you're good, I'll unlock the cuffs before I go to bed, alright?" he said.
"Unlock me now, and I'll go somewhere else. You jerk-ass bastard", Brett spat. Don got up and walked out of the room. He would be getting an earful in the morning, as well as a major headache, but he didn't care. He waited an hour and walked back in.

"You going to unlock me now?" Brett asked calmly. Too calm.
"Only if you don't attack me for it. I'm looking out for you, Brett", Don replied. He unlocked the cuff. Quick as lightning, Brett grabbed his arm and flipped him onto his back, straddling his stomach and cuffing his wrist to the bedpost. He was just bested by a woman.
"This is a dangerous game, Fox. You sure you want to ride this train?" he said. Brett got off and twirled the keys.
"You're getting a taste of your own medicine, Flack. If you're a good boy, I'll unlock you in the morning", she replied, patting his head. Don slid his hand into his pocket and pulled out his spare key. He unlocked his wrist and followed her out.
"Next time you do that, make sure I don't have spare keys", he said, catching her wrist. Brett turned around and gave him a slow look. Don barely had time to think before Brett reached up and crushed her lips against his. She tasted like cinnamon and vodka.

"Mm, be careful, Rodeo. You've had a traumatic night", Don murmured against her lips. This was wrong, but that's what made it so right. They were forbidden to be together, due to policy. She had run off from her boyfriend because he'd struck her. Don needed to show her that there were some good men in New York.
"If you don't bring that up again, I'll give you a whole new meaning to that nickname", Brett replied throatily. She pushed him against the wall and kissed along his neck too lightly for his taste. This felt too good.
"We shouldn't do this", Don said. Brett raised her eyebrow.
"Since when have you played by the rules?" she asked. She had him on his back on the bed and she cuffed him again.
"See you tomorrow, Flack", she said. Don's eyes were wide. All that seduction, all of that foreplay to just leave him handcuffed to a bed. Oh, she was good.