All characters belong to ABC and the wonderful folks who brought Harry Denby to life in the first place.

This continues on from One For My Baby.

*

The magic of the moment didn't last as long as Harry would have liked. Diane's slender frame was positively limp but delightful to hold. It isn't every day you have a lovely woman swoon into your arms, and he was still in the process of enjoying the sensation when she stirred. Her head lolled over to one side and she murmured, "No." He was gallantly carrying her over to the couch when she stiffened and began to fight him.

"No! Stop it!" Diane screamed as she struck out at him. In her fog she was still in bed, grappling with the killer hands of the intruder. Kicking and flailing wildly, she called out for help, "Harry!"

Dodging her blows, Harry struggled to keep from dropping her as he staggered over to the edge of the couch. "Diane, it's all right. Wait...Diane!" She reached up and dug her fingernails into his face and raked them down in a fiery row.

He drew in his breath and grimaced in pain as he set her down, and looked up just in time to see Andy Sipowitz flying over the back of the couch like some sort of rabid, pit bull terrier.

He had Harry by the throat before they both hit the floor. "You bastard!" he spat as swung hard and connected with Harry's jaw in a sickening smack. The impact caused the blood to flow freely from the fresh wound Diane had left on his cheek. Harry managed to raise his arms to block the next round of Andy's fury. He landed one or two punches of his own before other voices and hands arrived to break them apart.

"Hold it, Sipowitz!" Lt. Fancy ordered.

Andy, still pinning Denby to the floor with his knee, shot back at him, "I come runnin in here, hearing Diane's screamin his name, and, and and... they're fighting tooth and nail. What d'ya expect me to do?" Andy released the fist full of shirt that he had clenched tightly in his hand, and shoved Harry down as he rose. "You bastard!"

"Denby, get up. What's' going on in here?" Fancy was the one getting angry now.

Harry sat up slowly, catching his breath, and glanced at the faces glaring down on him. Danny had arrived with Baldwin and both stared incredulously at the oozing fingernail scratches on his face.

Fancy pointed over to the body near the hall, " Would somebody like to explain that?"

Diane was fully awake now and standing near the couch, pale and serious. The men noticed the blood near the corner of her mouth and all of them seemed to take a step closer to the spot where Harry sat. She put up her hand to stop them and stepped forward toward Fancy. "I can explain, Lieutenant, it's not what you think."

Fancy took her by the elbow and walked with her over to the body on the floor as she spoke.

"This guy here broke in while I was sleeping. I think he's one of the Dominicans that Don was scamming and he was here looking for Don's stash." She leaned one hand on the wall. "He was tying me up, trying to force me to talk, when Denby came in. He fired two rounds at Harry and missed, but Harry got him in the chest."

Baldwin knelt down to pick up the silencer encased gun from the floor. He'd carefully stuck a pencil through the trigger guard and raised it up for all to see.

"There were others outside, out in front of the building, and we got set up... back down the hall thinking they were gonna come up." She took a deep breath and finished, "after we heard the sirens we came out to wait for you and...I must have passed out. I don't know."

She looked questioningly over at Harry, "What happened?"

Harry had started to get up off of the floor while Diane was speaking, but his throbbing head advised him otherwise and he sat back down, propped up against the couch. He touched his cheek and drew away his hand to inspect the blood on his fingertips.

"Here." Danny passed over his own handkerchief and Harry took it gratefully with a nod of thanks. Sipowitz snorted in disgust.

"Diane got tossed around pretty good by this guy. Take a look at her jaw." Denby gestured toward Diane and Fancy leaned over for a better look. Her face was clearly beginning to swell and bruise and he studied her with concern.

Harry continued, "She kept it together and was ready to take on any other unfriendlies that might come to our little party. But she passed out after we heard you guys coming, and I was trying to help her out."

Diane shifted a little and looked at Andy.

"I guess she thought I was the perp again when she woke up and let me have it." Harry patted his wound with the cloth and shook his head. "Next thing I know, Muhammed Ali here is pounding my face in."

Andy snorted again, tossed up his hands and said as sarcastically as possible, "My apologies."

"Fine," said Fancy as he adjusted his jacket. "That explains a few things. Who called in and got us all paged? Diane?"

She shook her head as Denby raised his hand and spoke, "I figured once you guys knew it was Diane's place, you'd get here faster than anyone else."

Fancy clenched his jaw at the breech in protocol, "Denby, you got anymore revelations you'd like to share?"

But before Harry had a chance to respond a voice from the doorway interjected, "That's what I'd like to know."

Sergeant Martens from IAB stepped in the room with an air of superiority and said to no one in particular, "So, what brings Dominican drug dealers to your apartment tonight, Detective Russell?"

*

Diane closed her eyes as she swallowed three aspirin with her water. Luckily, the ambulance crew had arrived shortly after the IAB officer and were busy collecting the body from the hall. At Danny's insistence, she had taken the opportunity to retreat to the bathroom, close the door, and gather her thoughts.

Only Andy and Denby knew that Don had come to her apartment, and she didn't know how to explain the presence of the Dominicans any other way. Danny was already under the IA microscope. Diane's mind raced. Her cooperation with Jill made her complicent with a fleeing felon, and the whole squad would fall under suspicion if her connection to Don got out.

I can't do that to them. She stared at herself in the mirror. How did I get myself into this? Rubbing her sore shoulder, Diane sat down on the edge of the tub and methodically applied a small bandage to her scraped knee. Thinking made her head hurt, but she took a moment to calculate the cost of the truth. Demotion for sure...possible prosecution. If they let me stay on the job, I'd probably be transferred out to another station. Maybe even another district. It'd be like losing my family.

There was a tentative knock on the door. "You okay, Diane?" Baldwin's deep voice made her smile. She could just see him, standing guard at the door, keeping Martens at bay as long as possible. He'd become a good friend already, that Baldwin. Even Denby was turning out different than she had thought at first. But she still wondered, was this the real Harry?

"I'm ready." Her heart was in her throat as she opened the door and spoke to Baldwin. They walked down the hall, which seemed longer now to Diane, and joined the heated discussion in the living room.

"Well that's convenient, isn't it?" the Martens yelled in exasperation.

He and Harry were going at it while the others stood back and watched.

"That's it in a nutshell, your honor. You don't believe me ask her. Go ahead." Harry was managing to maintain a cool exterior, but Diane could tell he was just barely keeping the lid on.

"Ask me what?"

Both men stopped their exchange and turned to look at Diane. The spotlight was now fully on her and she clenched her hands. Andy looked absolutely panicked and she wondered just what had been discussed during her intermission.

Sergeant Martens stepped past Harry and stopped at the window, toying with the curtain pull.

"I know you're tired, Detective Russell. It's been quite a night, hasn't it?"

She didn't like his tone.

"Just one question, if you please." He twirled the cord around in his hand. "Did you meet Detective Denby at a bar earlier this evening?"

Dead silence.

The question hung like smoke in the air of her apartment. Diane had already resolved to answer truthfully in front of everyone, but she hadn't expected this. She folded her arms and replied, "Yes, that's right."

Danny stuffed his hands deep in his pockets, and Andy let out an audible whistle.

Fancy, as usual, was absolutely unreadable.

"Really? Hmmm. Tell me, just for my own amusement, did he...uh, entertain you with a song?"

Diane shifted her jaw to one side and hesitated to answer. What did this have to do with the Dominicans being in her apartment? Denby, who had been staring at the floor, looked up to meet her gaze. She read the answer in his eyes and said, "One for my baby..."

Harry smiled and looked back down at the floor.

"What was that, Detective? I didn't quite hear you?"

Fancy stepped in, "Come on, Sergeant, I heard her...everybody heard her. I think that about cinches it for tonight, don't you?" He casually positioned himself between Diane and the Martens, making it plain that further questioning would have to wait for tomorrow.

Clearly outnumbered, the IAB officer swiped aside an overturned potted plant with his foot and strutted to the door. "Lieutenant, your loyalties are gonna land you in a hell of a lotta hot water one of these days." He pointed at Harry, "Until tomorrow, then." Andy allowed Martens a clear path to the door.

Diane stood next to Baldwin, feeling strangely relieved, but certainly dumbfounded at what had just transpired. She watched as Sipowitz took Denby by the arm and pulled him closer to whisper something in his ear. It wasn't a friendly exchange, but at least they didn't come to blows again.

"I gotta get on home, Diane. You know..." She gave Andy an awkward wave as he followed the ambulance personnel out with the body.

"I can stay behind and wait till crime scene is done, Boss," Danny offered. "I'll make sure things stay kosher around your place tonight, Diane. No worries."

Fancy motioned to Diane and Harry. They met up at his side. "Seeing as you've both had your bells rung tonite, I think Baldwin should be the one drive you to a hotel. He'll take the first watch and I'll send Medavoy by in a few hours."

Harry started to object but Fancy interrupted him, "I think it's best. We've got two other perps out there that we know of. Best play it on the safe side. I'd also like you both to check with the medics before you leave."

Diane took a deep breath and went to her bedroom to gather a few things.

"Denby, I'll need your piece for forensics."

Harry reluctantly gave Fancy his gun, "I'd like that back a soon as possible."

"Yeah. Came in handy. I can see that." The Lieutenant lowered his voice, "Got a back-up?"

"Always."

Diane returned, carrying a small bag. As she and Harry turned to leave with Baldwin, Fancy called out, "You did all right here tonite, you two. We'll get these guys. You can be certain of that."

*

That is the ugliest shade of pink I have ever seen. Diane's mouth hung open as she walked in a circle, surveying the decor of her hotel room. She thought about all the other witnesses that had been sent to these accommodations by the department before her and vowed to strongly suggest that another hotel might be selected in the future. This is torture. It's like ...like Pepto Bismal. Stomach churning pink. Everywhere.

"This do for the night?" Baldwin leaned in the doorway. He had dragged out a pink chair from the room and set it out in the hallway for his watch.

"Yeah, Baldwin. Fine. You need anything else?"

"Naw. Greg will be here in a couple hours. If either of us needs to talk to you, we'll knock five times. You get some rest. Okay?"

"Okay. Thanks."

It was silly, but she did feel safer knowing he was there. She wasn't expecting her fear to still be hanging on, but it was. Protecting others was her job and she had learned to control and use the stress that it involved. But now she felt vulnerable and that made her angry.

All the way over in the car she had felt Denby's eyes burning into the back of her head. She had opted to sit up front with Baldwin, and Harry had kept absolutely silent in the back. No clever repartee, no further explanations. Nothing.

The suspense was killing her.

Diane set down her bag on the pink bedspread and opened it. After removing her things she hesitated, then pulled out the remaining item.

A man's shirt. Bobby's shirt to be exact.

At the last moment before leaving her bedroom at her apartment, it occurred to her that Harry might need a clean shirt for tomorrow. At the time it seemed a practical, friendly gesture. But now, as she held up the carefully pressed button down, she second guessed her impulse.

Just then she her three knocks at her door, and she dropped the shirt back into her bag as if she were hiding some sort of contraband. She turned to open the door but stopped. Didn't Baldwin say five knocks?

The she heard it again, three knocks, but more softly this time and not coming from the front door as she had thought. Diane turned around and noticed the adjoining door to the next hotel room for the first time. It was located unobtrusively next to the dresser, and painted the same shade of pink as the wall.

She didn't have to guess who it was. The desk clerk had checked Harry into the room next to hers.

Diane waited a few minutes, gathered her wits about her and opened the door.

But he wasn't there. She called out quietly, "Denby?" No answer. As she stepped into his room, which was a much more pleasant shade of yellow, she heard the water running in the bathroom.

"Denby, you in there?"

Harry heard her that time and peeked out of the bathroom, still drying his face with a towel. "Diane? Ah, did you here me knock? I thought you might have been asleep already." He turned off the sink and threw the towel in the empty bathtub as he came out. She tried to ignore the fact that he had removed his tie and shirt, and was addressing her in his slacks and tank undershirt, but his lithe, athletic build was hard to ignore.

"I'm a little confused about what happened with Martens." She put on her best business-like tone and continued, "Why did he ask about that song? I thought he was going to lay into me about letting Don and Jill use the place."

Harry bent down and began working at the lock on the tiny refrigerator near the night stand. "Well we couldn't have that now could we?" He unbent a paper clip and used it like a determined burglar. "I explained to him that the Dominicans had probably been tailing me for a while, since I was the last one with Don before he took it upon himself to hide his little nestegg."

The lock on the refrigerator opened with a pop and Harry exclaimed, "Eureka! Haven't lost my touch." He rummaged around inside the personal bar and came up with a tiny bottle in his hand. "May I offer you a beverage, Detective?"

"I don't think there's anything in there that I want, Denby," she replied coldly.

"I don't know, Diane. You're turning down a fine selection of juices in here. There's even some sort of mocha-coffee stuff in a can, which, I must admit, doesn't appear very appetizing."

"Just tell me why he asked about the song."

Harry sat on the edge of the bed and twisted open the bottle with a crack. "I wasn't sure if you had told anyone in your squad about letting Jill use your place, so I couldn't count on them covering for you. I told Martens that we had been together at the pub, and that we had gone to your apartment together afterwards."

"So he figured the hitmen followed you to the pub, and then followed us to my place?"

He lifted a glass from the night stand and emptied the bottle into it. "Yeah. It was pretty close to the truth anyway."

"Tell me the rest."

Harry sighed and went to the sink and filled up the glass with water. "I said I stayed at your place for a couple of hours, but left after we had a disagreement of some sort...then I returned about 1:00 to talk to you some more and saw the hitmen out front, and that's where the truth started falling into place again."

He sat back down on the bed across from her. "I guess he asked you about the bar, and the song, because he didn't believe that we had really been there together tonight. I, uh, think it was a bit of a shock to some of the members of your squad as well."

She bit her lip and looked away. Being on some sort of date with Harry Denby was not her idea of a cover story, but if Martens bought accepted it, facing the puzzled looks of her peers was a small price to pay.

Diane knew that Harry had rescued her again, this time from the rat squad. She looked up at the awful mark she had scratched into his face and felt an overwhelming urge to touch him, thank him. Anything.

But she couldn't.

She couldn't admit that she had any trace of affection for this man.

Harry just sat there, studying her, barely holding his glass with both hands on the edge of the rim. He sensed her mood and said, "You know what Sipowitz said to me before he left?"

Diane let her gaze drift around the room and shook her head.

"He knew about Jill using your place, didn't he?"

"Yeah, I told him," she said as she tucked her hair behind one ear.

"Well, then he probably figured out that I was covering for you with IAB. He may be a hard ass but he cares a lot about you." Harry lowered his voice. "He told me that you didn't owe me anything for tonight and he's right. You don't owe me anything, Diane."

Diane couldn't stand it. Everything about him was making her come undone inside and she didn't like it. His voice, his green eyes, that damn undershirt...

"Well, you know, Andy's right." She rose and began making her way from yellow to pink. "I didn't ask for all of this. I didn't ask for Don to, to buy in with those Dominicans."

She was beginning to lose it. "I didn't ask for you...and Jill to lie to me!"

She was almost at the door. "I didn't ask to be dragged around my home in the middle of the night by some killer looking for drugs!"

"I don't owe you anything, Denby!" and she slammed the door.

The glass Harry had been barely holding slipped through his fingers and fell to the floor. He sat for a long time with his head in his hands, fingers all tangled up in his hair. From many, many nights of habit, he laid back on the bed and began a thorough study of the cracks in the ceiling.

*

It took about twenty minutes for Diane to feel like an idiot. She could no longer see any light from the other room at the bottom of the door. She was tired, but just awake enough to realize that she'd acted like an ungrateful jerk. Whatever mistakes Denby had made while he was undercover with Don, he didn't deserve what she had just given him. Too exhausted to argue with herself, she pulled out Bobby's shirt, folded it nicely, and crept into Harry's dark room.

The neon from the sign outside shed just enough light through the window for Diane to see him motionless on the bed. She had intended to simply leave the shirt as a goodwill gesture, but couldn't help standing there watching him.

He looked so alone, lying there in his clothes, on top of the covers. The room was empty and cold.

She stepped near the glass on the floor and her toes felt the wet carpet as she placed the shirt carefully on the nightstand. As quietly as possible she unfolded the blanket at the foot of the bed and draped it over him. He was breathing heavily, evenly in a deep sleep. She closed her eyes and listened, and remembered how comforting it was to fall asleep to the sound of another human being breathing.

It was rhythmic and soothing, like the ocean. Just like the waves along the shore. Diane felt all the tension of the day being washed away with each wave.

She sat on the edge of the bed lightly, trying to keep from waking him, and wished she could make the wound on his face go away. Without thinking at all, she slowly laid down next to Harry and placed her hand gently on his chest, feeling his heart beating a different time to the waves. Blessed sleep was just descending when he shifted, turned on his side and pulled the blanket over, covering them both.

Never opening their eyes, each one quietly said to the other, "Thank you," and drifted off to sleep on the tide.

End

copyright Kristin Uhrig 2000