A very good friend over on Tumblr gave me the idea for this story, and my muse decided we can't keep this only a one-shot. :-)
Disclaimer: The characters don't belong to me, just this story!
He pressed his left hand flat on the sink, waiting for the muscle cramps to subside. The cramps were the only hindrance left behind after he'd been shot five months ago.
The doctors had told him that a guardian angel must have watched over him, since the bullet had only missed his heart by inches. It had been a small miracle that he'd survived the major blood loss, and he'd spent the last four months in rehab to get the function of his left arm back. Besides some muscle cramps in the morning he had his full strength back, and had gotten the all clear to return to duty last week.
Lifting his head slowly, he looked at his reflection. He still had a hard time to adjust to his old self again - being undercover for over eight months tended to do that to you. Especially since his cover Roger Hudson had been a far cry away from his usual polished self. His well-trimmed scruff had been a full blown out beard, his hair had reached his shoulders and the suits had been exchanged by a full leather outfit from head to toe, with sparkling earring and skull necklace.
His fingers reached for the necklace sitting on the sink beside him, his hand clenching around it until the charms dug painfully into his palm.
Of course he'd heard the stories - the stories about the cops who went rogue, who lost themselves in their undercover work and changed sides. He just never thought it would happen to him.
But after months undercover the lines between reality and cover had started to blur. All because he'd lost his cool head, and started to develop feelings for the wife of his target. At first he'd fought it, but weeks had passed by, and one night she'd seduced him.
After Liam's death he'd closed of his heart, never wanting to feel that devastated, that lost, ever again. It had been a long and painful death, draining the life out of him alongside his brother, and when Liam had taken his last breath something inside of Killian had died too.
But then he'd met Milah, and he'd fallen in love despite knowing he should have stayed away from her. Brushing his fingers over the scar on his chest, he closed his eyes as the memories started to rush back to the surface again.
Gold coming home early, finding him and Milah in bed together. The cold expression on the man's face was something he would never forget, the hatred blazing out of Gold's eyes when he'd drawn the gun, and first fired at Milah and then at Killian.
Milah didn't make it, and Gold disappeared. But Killian survived. And now he had to live with the knowledge that he killed Milah for the rest of his life.
His fingers were trembling around the necklace, and he opened his eyes, staring back at his reflection, just feeling bone tired. But it was his first day at the new job today, and he needed to get a grip and his ass moving.
His old boss had suggested he should change divisions, that it would be better when he left narcotics behind. At least for a little while. Killian didn't know if it would change anything, if it would help ease the emptiness in his chest. But he had to try.
So he had agreed to help out the Homicide Division of the 15th for a few months. The former head detective had died in a car accident, and needed to be replaced immediately. Killian had worked homicide for a few years back when he'd come out of the academy, and was qualified for the job.
Letting out a deep breath, he straightened, realizing that he was still holding the necklace in his hand. Out of an impulse he didn't understand he slipped it over his head, closing his shirt over it before he shrugged into the vest and put on his tie. One last look into the mirror told him he was ready to go, and he walked out of the bathroom quickly, hoping he could leave the memories of the last year behind eventually.
He reached the precinct half an hour later, and announced himself at the front desk, waiting patiently until someone came down. The officer who stepped towards him a few minutes later introduced himself as Detective Locksley, telling him he would be working under him, naming the rest of the team as he lead him upstairs to the captain's office.
Killian stopped briefly before the captain's door, collecting himself before he knocked and entered after hearing the soft 'come in' from inside.
"Captain Swan? I'm Detective Jones. Reporting to ..." The words got stuck in his throat as she turned around to face him, the sight punching all the air out of his lungs.
The woman in front of him wasn't only his new boss. She was also the woman with whom he'd had a one-night stand five years ago, a few months before his life had spiraled out of control.
And it hadn't been only a random one-night stand. It had been the most damn mind-blowing sex of his whole life. Liquid heat shot straight down to his groin as he stared at her dumbfounded, flashes of their night together - memories he thought he'd buried so deep that they would never come up again - springing to the forefront of his brain, and making sweat break out on his forehead.
Bloody fucking hell!