Greg loosened his grip enough so that Burly could gasp for air. She stopped struggling to conserve what was left of her energy, resting her weight against Greg. She stood still, waiting to see what he would do next.

"That's a good little detective. Just be still and it will all be over in a little while."

Burly drew in another ragged breath, "What will be over, Greg?"

He motioned with the gun in his hand as he waved it around him. "All this. You. Me. None of this matters anymore. I have you now, and you can't deny me."

She stood still, trying to breathe deeply, to regain her composure. The rain was still falling, dripping in her face and tickling her nose. She resisted with all her will power not to reach up and wipe her face, unsure of what Greg might do.

"It's cold out here, Greg. Let's go inside and talk, I'm sure we can come up with something to satisfy all of us."

Greg snorted, "It's too late to talk, Burly. Have you not figured that out? This is the last dance for us, darling. It's too bad that it is also the first."

Burly tried to keep him talking, to buy herself some time. "What if we start over?"

Again, Greg snorted. "That can't happen now, can it? Not after the things I've done to get back at you, I can't start over. This is where it ends. With you and me."

"It doesn't have to end this way, Greg. I have some pull in the department, I can get you a deal. Trust me."

Laughing, he said, "Coming from the girl that used to yell sick sexual innuendos at me in the parking lot at school. I don't think so. It ends here, now, with us."

He started dragging her backward again, her feet stumbling at first, but then she kept up with him. They stopped once they reached the bleachers. Letting go of her neck, he pointed the gun at her.

"Sit, don't move," he ordered her.

She nodded in compliance, sitting on the cold, wet bleachers. There was a sheen of ice cover on the metal that sent a shiver up her. Her clothes were soaked through, cold and heavy. If she needed to, running from this man would be difficult because of the extra weight of the wet clothing. Again, he had her out in the elements. Shivering, she glanced around in the dark without moving her head. Movement caught her eye on the concession stand.

'No, don't let that be Ryan, please. Why couldn't he have stayed in my apartment where I left him?' she thought to herself. She watched the movement, it was definitely a person, crouching down on the low roof of the small building.

"What now, Greg? Or should I say, Jimmy? What's next?"

"We end this. Here and now. I'm glad to see that you came here alone, I won't have to hurt anyone else."

"Hurt!" she exclaimed. "You didn't hurt anyone. You killed my friends, my partner and you destroyed a co-workers chance at a normal life. The only person you hurt was yourself, because you're not going to get away with this. You're not going to kill me, or yourself. I don't believe that."

"The dance ends now, get up."

Greg put his gun away, took out a knife. He leaned forward toward Burly, she leaned back. On the ice covered, rain soaked bleacher, she slipped off the bench and landed on the foot path behind her. She put her hands down to push herself up with, but let one linger behind her back for a moment. When Greg grabbed a handful of her shirt to pull her up, he realized she had a vest on.

"Think you're so smart, wearing a vest to meet me? It won't do any good. I can still shoot you in the head or slit your throat."


Ryan and the uniformed officer pulled into the parking lot of the high school football field alongside another patrol car.

"Was that a gunshot?"

The officers shrugged.

"We need the element of surprise, let's be quiet and see what is going on before we do anything," one of the officers said.

Ryan nodded. He ran over to the concession stand before either one could protest and hoisted himself up onto the roof. He crouched down and made his way to the edge of the building, scanning the field as he did. He saw a person slumped over in a chair on the fifty yard line. From this vantage point, Ryan couldn't make out who it was or if they were alive.

Rain soaked him from head to foot, the roof slippery from the rain turning to ice around him. He laid down on his stomach, searching the perimeter for signs of Burly. A struggle by the bleachers caught his attention. Immediately, he pulled himself back to the edge that he climbed up and motioned to the officers.

"She's out there, with Greg. It looks like they are fighting. It also looks like Ruckus is tied to a chair at the fifty yard line, though I can't tell if he's hurt or worse. Call for an ambulance, I'm going down there to get my girlfriend."

"No, it's too dangerous for you to go. Let one of us."

"Why, because you're cops and I'm not? That's my girlfriend and that man doesn't scare me. I'm going to get her."

He pulled himself to the edge of the roof and slid down the wall on the inside of the small stadium. He stayed to the perimeter, to keep from being noticed too readily.


Burly could not grab her gun in time before Greg pulled her to her feet. She stumbled backward, out of his grasp for a moment. He lunged at her but missed when she turned to avoid his advance. They sparred like this for a few moments, Greg advancing toward Burly and missing.

Trying to catch her breath, she leaned forward with her hands on her knees. "This is a game you won't win, Greg. You know that."

"That's what you think. I trained you, remember. I know how you fight. I have watched you for the last eight years, I know what to expect."

He advanced at her once again, anticipating her reaction. She sat down and rolled back, kicked up at him and caught him off guard. He fell back against the bleachers and let out a groan. It took only a moment for him to get his bearings and attack again.

This time he kicked at her left knee and knocked her to the ground. She writhed in pain, clutched her leg and rolled around the wet ground. She looked up, to see where Greg was. He grabbed her by the shirt again and hoisted her to her feet.

She hopped on her right leg, not able to put any weight on the left. Greg slapped her across the face and let go of her at the same time, watching her fall to the ground.

"Shit." Burly muttered to herself as she rolled away from him again. He was strong and must not have been injured in the wreck that hurt her knee.

She rolled to the base of the bleachers, used them to pull herself up. She sat down, tried to catch her breath. Greg was advancing again, this time with the knife in hand. Without hesitation, she reached down and retrieved the handgun from her ankle holster.

Pointing it at him, she pulled the trigger. Bang! The shot echoed through the quiet night. She watched the look on Greg's face turn from fury to fear. The blood mixed with the water on his soaked shirt and spread quickly through the material. He paused only a moment to look down at his chest before he collapsed.

Burly didn't have time to move before he fell, and he landed right on top of her. Hard. He pushed her back into the bleachers behind her. She was cold, very cold with the ice and metal underneath her. Both legs ached, not having them stretched out before Greg landed on her, they rested at an odd angle.

The body on top of her moved, she held her breath. Her bullet hit the target, there was no way he could have lived after being shot through the heart. Yet the body moved, slowly lifting off of her.

She looked up to see Ryan hoisting the weight off of her. He picked him up and rolled him over to the side, checking for a pulse as he did. Burly moved, tried to push herself up, but Ryan stopped her.

"What?"

"Don't move." Concern clouded his dark green eyes.

She didn't understand, she didn't think she was hurt that bad. Her whole body started to turn from cold and achey to numb.

"Where's your radio?" he asked as he checked her pulse.

Absently, she brushed his hand away. "In the truck. What?"

"Nothing, Kimburly, just lay still, please."

Something in his voice told her to listen to him and not argue, so she complied. "Hey."

He looked at her, tried to smile. "What."

"You didn't call me detective."

"I didn't think you'd notice."

She closed her eyes, relaxed.

"Don't leave me now, detective. Help is coming, it will be here very soon. Open your eyes. Please."

"Let's go inside, it's cold." She opened her eyes and looked at him. He looked like he was crying, but she couldn't tell if there were tears through all the rain running down his face. With effort, she reached up and touched his face.

He took her hand and kissed the palm.

"Ryan, what is it?"

"You can't feel it, can you?"

"Feel what?"

Ryan took a deep breath, shook his head as if to clear it. "When Greg fell on you, he still had the knife in his hand. It's sticking out of you, right under your vest. Your bleeding."

She tried to pick her head up, but Ryan held her still.

"Don't look, please. Help will be here in a minute. Do you hear the sirens?"

"Yes. Where's Ruckus? I think Greg shot him."

"The officer that unlocked the handcuffs for me in your apartment is with him. They are checking him out right now. Concentrate on you."

"Are you crying, Ryan?"

He nodded, but said, "No, baby. I'm just concerned for you. When you left me in the apartment like you did, it scared me to death. And now, seeing you like this," he motioned over her with his hand. "I can't describe how I feel."

"Don't cry for me, please. No matter what happens, don't cry for me."

He nodded, kissing her palm again.

She took a deep breath, then closed her eyes.