This is an entry for the Fairytale Challenge over at LJ. The prompt I chose was the Scottish ballad of Tam-Lin, an absolutely beautiful story. Check it out if you want at fables (dot) org – or the ever-faithful Wikipedia. ;)

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prologue: in the dead of night

two weeks from now

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Vicky McDonald had never thought of herself as a particularly sympathetic person. She certainly never went out of her way to help others, even when asked; in fact she usually tried pretty hard to do the exact opposite. But even she had a conscience, even as deeply buried as it was, and she had her limits just like everyone else.

“Look at you,” she spat. “This is pathetic.”

Well, no one said she had to be nice about it.

Casey shot her a withering look. “Can I help you with something, Victoria?”

“Yeah, you can get a life, because all this wallowing is really bringing down the ambiance of the place,” Vicky drawled, running an impatient hand through her newly-shorn bangs. “I’ve got a new ‘do to go with my new heels, and here I am, wasting it on my loser cousin who won’t leave the house. This is so far past ‘uncool’ that we’ve totally lost sight of any hope.”

Casey barely looked up from the files she was ruffling through. “I wasn’t aware that giving you a place to stay came with requirements.”

“We’re living together; you have requirements just like any regular roommate.”

Casey snorted. “I’d hardly call us roommates, Vic.”

Vicky perched herself on Casey’s desk, peering over into the papers her cousin held. “Roommates, cousins, mortal enemies, whatever you’d like to call it.” Casey didn’t reply, and Vicky frowned. “No half-dead retort?”

“I’m busy,” Casey said pointedly. “Don’t you have an elsewhere to be?”

“Yes, it’s called the real world,” Vicky replied. “Won’t you join me?”

Casey snapped the file shut and glared at her cousin, and Vicky felt a stab of triumph. A sign of life! “I’m busy,” Casey repeated, louder and a bit angrier. “I really don’t have time to go club crawling with you, as appealing as beer-stained barstools and creepy bottom-feeders are.”

“Please,” Vicky scoffed. “This is California. We drink vodka here.”

“Not tonight,” Casey said, with finality. She turned her chair away and opened up the file again, studying it with single-minded concentration.

There we go with the sympathy again. Vicky frowned, reaching out to brush Casey’s hair away from her face softly. “This isn’t healthy, Case.”

Casey jerked away. “Screw you.”

“Hey,” Vicky said, wounded. “I’m trying, okay? But you’re all…sad and stuff, and I don’t know what’s going to set you off, and…” she threw up her hands in a feeble gesture. “I just want you to be normal again, you know?”

Casey sneered at her. “Thanks for the inspiration, Vicky. ‘Be normal,’ got it.”

Vicky shrugged helplessly. “I’m no good at this.”

“Yeah, well.” Casey sighed. “Look, I’m sorry.”

Vicky shifted her weight uneasily. “Look, I’m just…worried about you, you know? I think it’d be good for you, to get out a little. Some fresh air, a little relaxation.”

“Relaxation,” Casey repeated dully. “Right.”

“Well. Yeah.”

Awkward silence descended, and Casey felt the small stabs of guilt creeping up. She tilted her head and regarded her cousin, standing uncertainly at the edge of the desk. “Thanks, Vicky. I’ll be fine, just…not right now, okay?” Casey smiled tiredly, too drained to manage anything more.

“Okay,” Vicky said slowly. “Well, call my cell if you need something. I’ll leave it on. Okay?”

Casey nodded her assent, turning her attention back to her file. Vicky left the room quietly, heels clicking on the floor. She gave one last look to her cousin, huddled in the huge office chair, before sighing and leaving the room. Casey gave a not-so-subtle sigh of relief once Vicky was completely gone, leaning back in her chair to return her full concentration on her work.

“You should’ve gone with her.”

Casey jumped at the sudden voice, heart racing. She snapped her head up to regard Derek, leaning against the doorjamb lazily. “God, you scared me.”

He shrugged carelessly and moved across the room, coming around the edge of the desk to peer down at the files in her hand. “Police reports?”

She nodded. “No rest for the weary.”

“You should’ve gone with Vicky,” Derek repeated, leaning one hand on the desk next to her, the other coming around to the back of her chair. “She was right. You need a break. Fun, excitement, merriment, all that jazz. You know.”

“I’m not exactly in a merry mood,” Casey said wryly. “I can’t quit now.”

“Quit what?” he asked. “You’re chasing smoke and you know it.”

“It’s smoke now,” she said. “But if I can find more…I know there’s more. I can feel it.”

“Wow, the LAPD will be so happy for your help,” he countered. “You ‘feel it.’ Well, then.”

“Shut up,” Casey said, not meanly. “I can’t stop now. I can’t lose…” she trailed off, not wanting to voice it. “I just can’t stop, okay?”

He crouched down to her level, eyes kind. She turned her face away, avoiding his gaze. “Casey.” She stiffened as she felt his hand on her cheek. “You’re wasting away.”

“I’m not,” she protested weakly.

“When’s the last time you ate?” he asked. “The last time you slept through the night?”

“Nightmares,” she murmured.

“Yeah.” He brushed the hair off her neck and brought his hands to her shoulders, squeezing firmly. “You’re wound tighter than a clock.”

She let her eyes fall closed, files falling to the desk top. “Oh God,” she moaned in pleasure, feeling his hands work her muscles into relaxation. “Don’t ever stop that.”

He chuckled, a low, warm sound. “No arguments here.” He leaned down and nuzzled her neck. “Don’t forget.”

“Forget what?” she whispered, arching into his hands.

“Anything.” His hands moved to her forearms, holding her in place as he moved to her collarbone, nipping and biting at her skin.

She hissed through her teeth, tears springing to her eyes. “I won’t – I haven’t,” she corrected. “Oh God, Derek. I can’t – I can’t breathe without you.”

She felt him grin and her heart ached. “This my shit.”

Huh? “What did you say?”

A few times I been around that track, so it’s not gonna happen just like that – because I ain’t no hollaback girl –

Her eyes flew open and she blinked groggily, bringing her head up from where it’d been resting on the desk top. She moaned slightly, groping for her cell phone. “Dammit, Vicky,” she cursed.

She twisted her head around, looking around at her surroundings. The empty room was like a punch to the gut. She sighed and looked down at her phone, still serenading her with Gwen Stefani’s unintelligible vocals. She flipped it open, scowling. “What?”

“Wow, sound a little more enthusiastic, Case.”

“Vicky, I told you, I’m not coming out with you tonight, no matter how much of a loser I am.”

“I know,” Vicky said. “I’m outside, I haven’t even left yet.”

“So?” Casey said impatiently, rubbing her arms for warmth.

“So, there’s some stupid car blocking me in,” Vicky whined. “Did you trade in the truck, or what?”

Derek’s truck. Casey winced. “No,” she snapped. “You know I didn’t.”

“Well, there’s a red Nissan blocking our driveway,” Vicky said. “Who do we know who drives a Nissan?”

Casey went still. “A Nissan? Red?” She scrambled for the files scattered around the desk, flipping open the nearest one. Her eyes scanned the top, seeing Venturi, Derek written at the top and she huffed, throwing it aside. She grabbed for another one, seeing Robeson, Alexander in the space for ‘victim’ and she tore at the pages frantically.

“Yeah. Totally crappy, too. How they even managed to drive it here, I have no idea.”

Finding the page she was looking for, Casey scanned the cramped handwriting, stomach dropping to her feet as she read. One car, registered to victim, listed as a 1993 make Nissan, red. Supposedly loaned to Derek Venturi, according to the victim’s sister – never recovered.

“Vicky,” she said slowly. “That’s Alex’s car.”

Vicky snorted. “Yeah, right. Good one.”

“I’m not lying.” Casey’s voice was apparently tense enough to grab attention, because Vicky fell silent. “I have the report right here.”

“How did Alex’s car make it here?” Vicky asked, hushed.

“I have no idea,” Casey said honestly, standing and grabbing her sweater from the back of the chair. “But I’m going to find out. Stay where you are.” She hung up without waiting for a reply and strode around the desk, dropping Alex’s report next to Derek’s on the desk.

Don’t forget, he’d said. Like she ever could.

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