A/N: Amongst my pile of university work was my need to write something, whether it be fanfiction or original fiction. This is what I ended up with. Please let me know what you think.

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in this fic.

Life After Stoney.

Angie closed her eyes thinking it would somehow stop the tearsfrom falling, but the tears fell anyway. She sobbed at the thought of not being able to control her emotions anymore, and sobbed at the thought of him.

She missed Oscar.

The world had always been a bad place. She wasn't under any illusions. She was a cop, if anyone knew how cruel the world could be, it was her. That didn't make it any easier though. They'd been through so much together. She'd spent more time with him than she ever did with any of her boyfriends. It happens that way when you're a cop. You're forced to spend hours with people in confined spaces, talking crap and doing surveillance. Forced to save each other's arses and dodge bullets. Somehow these things change you.

It's true what they say, cops are married to the job, and in a sense Angie felt as though she'd been married to Oscar. She knew everything that a wife should know about their husband, knew all his bad habits, and all of his secrets. He knew all of hers too. When you work that closely with someone, how could you not? And then there was the bickering, and the fun, and the shoulder to cry on. Angie's head fell into her hands. I want that shoulder now.

There were plenty of people who could comfort her, but there was no one like Oscar. He wouldn't even need to speak, he just needed to hold her and the pain would somehow evaporate. She wished he could take away her pain now. Never had she felt such an ache in her heart. She just wanted him back.

But he wasn't coming back. Accept it, Angie. Just accept it.

Although it had been almost 24 hours since Oscar's death, Angie was still a mess. She was struggling to be strong and maintain the composure that she was so well-known for keeping in situations like this. But her heart had broken. How could anyone maintain composure when their heart had shattered into a million little pieces and the only one who could heal it was gone?

With enormous effort, Angie pulled her hands away from her tearstained face. She could so easily have stayed hidden from the world, buried in her pain. Pull yourself together, Ange. Go out and catch the bastard that did this.

With red eyes, and flushed cheeks, Angie stepped back out into the world. She had no doubt that she would hate a world without Oscar Stone, but she knew what needed to be done. She had to bring Oscar's killer to justice.

She would never stop hurting, but she had to pick her shit up and keep going­­--even if it was without him.

I can do this, she whispered. I can do this.