Shield of Justice by Radclyffe

stepped back reluctantly. “Go. Answer it. I’ll get us some coffee.”
    When Catherine returned with two steaming mugs, Rebecca was standing by the tall window next to the front door with her back to the room, looking out onto the street. Catherine hesitated, reminding herself of the toll the last twenty-four hours must have taken on this woman and knowing that it wasn’t the time for them to get involved. But, God, she wanted her. It made no sense, but it wasn’t her mind that was doing the talking. It wasn’t exactly her body either; it was an even more dangerous combination of the two. Need and desire, both physical and emotional, were conspiring to make her lose all sense of good judgment. Still, too many demands on someone in Rebecca’s state right now could destroy her. She wanted her, but most of all she wanted her to heal. Then, she hoped, there would be time.
    “What is it?” she asked, handing Rebecca one of the mugs.
    “Internal Affairs.” Rebecca’s face was a careful blank. “They need to interview me, and they need me to go over our cases with them. See if we can turn up anything on Jeff’s killing.”
    “Today?” Catherine wondered what kind of people would put Rebecca through something like that less than twelve hours after her partner’s death.
    Rebecca laughed grimly. “Try two hours ago.” She set her mug down on the window ledge and turned to Catherine. “I wish I could stay. Being with you is…good.” She stopped. She wasn’t certain how it had happened, her being here like this with this woman who made her feel so much, and who made her long for even more. She hadn’t been looking for it—hadn’t even known she’d wanted it—but she recognized what she was feeling for Catherine Rawlings, and it scared her.
    “You can always come back, Rebecca. I’ll be here, and I
want
you to come back. Whenever you can, whenever you want.”
    Rebecca nodded. “I will.” She strapped on her holster and pulled on her jacket. At the door, she turned to face Catherine one last time. “Thank you for last night…all of it.”
    Catherine held the door open, watching the detective walk quickly down the steps and up the street.
Come back soon, Rebecca. Come back safely
.

    *

    An hour later, freshly showered, in a crisp white shirt and navy suit, Rebecca walked into the squad room, her eyes hard and her expression indecipherable. Men looked at her and nodded as she passed, no one saying anything. The general atmosphere in the room was subdued, without the usual banter and complaining. She walked directly to her desk and stared impassively at the man seated at the adjoining one.
    “What the hell are you doing in Cruz’s chair?” Her voice was granite. “And what the
hell
are you doing with those files?”
    William Watts looked at the expression on her face and then glanced around the squad room for support. No one offered any. “Just getting acquainted with the caseload. The captain told me to tell you that you and me are going to be partnered up.”
    She stared down at him coldly, then turned on her heel and stalked away. By the time she reached Captain Henry’s door, she was boiling. She pushed the door open without knocking and crossed the room toward his desk in two furious strides.
    “What do you mean telling Watts we were going to work together?” she demanded, not even registering the amazed look on Henry’s face. “I don’t want another partner, and if I did, it sure as hell wouldn’t be him. He’s a lazy sleaze, and I won’t ride with him.”
    The captain rose in one fluid motion, his arms braced on the desk as he leaned toward her until their faces were nearly touching. “Frye, if I tell you to work with Bozo the Clown, you do it. And you smile about it, too.” He bit off each word, his face a thundercloud of anger. “Now you turn your ass around and get the hell out of my office!”
    She met his angry gaze evenly, her fists clenched at her sides, trying unsuccessfully