Fan Fiction

The original episode, "A Bullet For Crockett", told the story of Miami Vice Cop, James Sonny Crockett and his fight to live after being shot during a drug deal gone sour. It focused on events in his past as seen through the eyes of people who cared about him. By the end of the show, we saw why they trusted the cop and understood what made them admire the man.

In this adaptation, the storyteller has changed. Now it is Sonny himself who tells us what he experiences as he tries desperately to survive. We get the chance to explore what he may have been thinking, as he hears the people talking around him.

Is he angry, or fearful? Does he bargain for a second chance? Does he look back to see what he has done with his life and then resolve to change things if somehow he succeeds in winning the battle?

For me, writing Bullet has helped to keep the show alive. I hope that by reading it, the fans can say they have enjoyed having the opportunity to share in the fun.

MJ

We stared ahead into the darkness, each lost in our own thoughts as we walked together in silence. My partner Rico and I had been working undercover for the last four months, putting up with the lousy food, sleepless nights and the acute need for some contact with the real world.

The deal with Ricque "Loco" Mendez was for five kilos and winning his trust had not been easy. In fact Tubbs had to impress him with a "buy" up in Lauderdale before he would even agree to talk to us.

We approached the dockyard cautiously, keeping in mind that I was carrying a hundred thousand in cash. It had rained plenty that afternoon and everything was still dripping in the Miami humidity. Wet, hot breezes were blowing in from the water and I could hear the waves slapping the boats against the rotting pier. Castillo wasn't crazy about the location, but Mendez had picked the spot, and he was a guy who needed to feel in control. If we'd made too many conditions we'd have lost him.

Water had accumulated in pools along the path, forcing us to detour around piles of twisted metal and abandoned cars. By the time I'd caught sight of the sullen Columbians, my own mood had darkened considerably.

"Now let me see here," I began. "The deal was that we were supposed to meet and exchange Halliburton's. Looks like to me you boys are a little light."

"The deal was a hundred thousand US for five keys of our best crystal rock." Mendez answered.

His nearest bodyguard opened his jacket to reveal two large plastic bags, bursting with white powder. "What do you care if it's in his hands or on his waist?"

"I want to see his hands at all times. Frisking your babysitter is not my idea of recreational therapy."

I didn't like the hostile vibes I was getting. It was starting to look a lot like a setup, and if my intuition was on target, then he'd been planning all along to keep the cash and the powder. For all we knew, he may have already figured we were cops.

His men continued to watch us warily.

"Just have the man toss the belt here." Rico said, trying to defuse the situation.

"Not until you toss us the century," Mendez answered.

Rico never missed a beat. "Looks like we have a Columbian standoff," he said casually.

"Stand off? I don't think so, Cooper." I saw Mendez glance at the men standing behind him, convinced he had the upper hand.

"Columbia, six...Miami, two," he announced proudly.

"I put a hundred thousand to win on Miami." I said, grinning back at him as we heard the cocking of rifles above us. Twelve DEA agents in full riot gear were positioned on the warehouse rooftop, ready to move in at our signal. Mendez's look of surprise was replaced with anger. He gave a short, one word command and we all dove for cover, automatic gunfire exploding all around us.

The dealer and his men were outnumbered, but they continued firing. One by one, they were picked off by DEA rifles until all that was left was the sound of dripping water and a haunting, eerie silence. In the rising mist, I caught sight of Mendez running to a car, his girl, Angel waiting for him behind the wheel.

It was my turn to be angry. This guy had been responsible for a large percentage of the coke traffic in greater Miami, and now, he was about to disappear into the night. No way was I letting that happen!

"Let's go!" I shouted to Rico.

Our two cars careened through traffic, pedestrians and innocent drivers scattering everywhere. Angel managed to keep ahead of us until she made the mistake of turning into a dead end by a commuter station. We caught sight of the two of them jumping the turnstile just as my car swerved into the parking lot. I knew we were going to have serious problems when I saw them disappear up the platform stairs.

Without thinking, we raced after them but were forced to duck for cover when bullets began to bite into the concrete around us. I could see them looking down from the platform above, just waiting for us to get a little closer. Now things had gotten complicated. If a commuter train pulled in, we could have a nasty hostage situation on our hands.

"I'll look for a back door. You keep them busy." I muttered to Rico.

They never saw me come up the stairway at the other end of the platform. It was almost too easy. I approached them from behind, keeping silent until I could be sure I had them covered.

"Mendez, freeze!" I shouted.

Loco Mendez swung around to face me and we stared into each other's eyes. The dealer's stance was proud, his expression defiant. I could sense him studying me, as if he were calculating his chances. Then, he raised his gun, and when I fired at him, he dropped to the platform like a stone.

"Rique!" the girl screamed, trying to reach him.

"Get away from him! Move!" I growled.

Angel seemed terrified as she scurried away from me, sobbing his name. Quickly kicking his gun a safe distance I reached down to feel for the pulse in his neck. It was weak, erratic and when I saw his eyes open and fixed, I knew he was gone.

Damn it!

He could have told me plenty. I had worked long and hard on this case and he was the one guy I had been aching to question. Now, the entire investigation was dead in the water. Aching with frustration, I shoved my gun back into my shoulder holster.

But things weren't over quite yet. I still had to deal with the girl.

She had gotten pretty quiet, or at least the whimpering had stopped. I glanced reluctantly in her direction, only to suddenly find myself staring down the barrel of a .380 semi-automatic. Underestimating Angel had been a mistake and fear stabbed through me when I realized I would not have time to react.

"This is for Ricque," she said, glaring up at me, her eyes bright with pain. She squeezed the trigger and I watched, fascinated, as the pistol bucked in her hand.

Hot metal slammed into my chest, propelling me back several feet and off the station platform. For a split second, I held my breath and when I hit the ground, an intense pressure exploded from deep inside. I lay there stunned, unable to move. Everything around me seemed deathly quiet while I waited in fear for the first wave of pain to hit.

"Sonny!" Rico shouted from the platform above me.

There was no way I could answer him. All I could do was lay helplessly by the tracks, staring up at the harsh glare that came from the station lights. A sharp whistle from an incoming train blasted in the distance. Rolling to my side, I nearly managed to stand, but an overwhelming dizziness brought me to my knees.

God, the pain!

The realization of what had happened began to sink in.

"Sonny! You're hurt, man!"

"Rico..." I whispered hoarsely.

He jumped down from the platform and I was sure I saw him wince when he leaned over to examine me. A sudden cough brought tears to my eyes and when I tried to swallow, I thought I recognized the sharp, metallic taste of blood.

"Come on, you have to move away from here, Sonny!" he shouted, dragging me by my arm. An express train thundered by, sending a shower of sparks raining over us.

Rico eased me back down until I was lying flat on the ground. "Stay still and don't move, Sonny. I'll be right back."

A tight band was wrapping around my chest, making every breath a struggle. I tried to sit up, but found I had no strength. Looking down at my chest, I saw that blood was already soaking through my shirt at an alarming rate. It was going to take time to get help, time I knew I didn't have. For just a second, the terrible thought flashed thorough my mind that I was going to die.

"Sonny!"

Rico had come back and I could feel him pulling me up into his arms.

"Come on, man," he muttered fiercely.

I kept fading in and out, giving in to the crushing heaviness and lack of oxygen. Trying to focus, I fought hard as my eyes began to close.

"No! Sonny! No!" he shouted, slapping my face with his hand. "Stay awake, man! Come on, stay with me."

Okay! Okay!

My eyes flickered open and I reached over to grab his wrist before he could smack me again.

"You know, buddy, sometimes you can be a real pain in the ass!" I whispered softly.

Sirens screamed in the distance.

No doubt coming for me.

Several people jumped down from the commuter platform, lowering equipment and a stretcher. I watched in a daze as a paramedic knelt down in the dirt beside me.

"Is the power switched off?" the guy asked someone while trying to find my pulse. "Who's checked on the train schedule? We don't want any nasty surprises... Yeah, the stationmaster should be in touch with the engineers. The chopper's on the way...oh, man, his pulse is tachy...get over here and let's get started!"

The ambulance crew took over, peering down at me anxiously while they cut away my shirt. Convinced I was going to suffocate, I pushed away the mask they were trying to strap to my face.

"It's oxygen to help you breathe, Detective," the EMT said reassuringly. He was forced to pull my hands away before he could cover my nose and mouth with the hard plastic.

"He's lost a lot of blood. Let's get a line in...and I need a pressure dressing on that chest wound." Someone was pumping up a blood pressure cuff while slapping a stethoscope on the crook of my arm.

"He's shocky already." I heard him say.

The air hissed with a sigh as I felt the pressure on my arm being slowly released.

"Let's get the mast suit on him...run the IV wide open."

I tried not to cry out when they lifted me onto the stretcher. Groaning softly, I fought the terrifying blackness, praying I wouldn't go out.

"Can't you give him anything?" Rico asked angrily.

"We need to monitor him closely and the sooner we get him out of here, the better," the paramedic answered. "I'll give him something for the pain on the chopper, I promise."

Rico was quiet, but I sensed him struggling with worry.

"You got room for one more?" he asked.

"Sure, man, no problem. You're his partner. You should be there."

I could hear blades beating against the wind as a Metro Dade helicopter made it's slow decent onto the wet asphalt of the empty parking lot.

"Okay, move him up, now!" the paramedic was shouting. "Go! Go!"

"Okay! Move! Now! Go! Go!"

Voices from long ago echoed in my mind.

My commanding officer was shouting orders over the churning chaos in the courtyard. I could feel the oppressive jungle heat and hear the sniper gunfire as I watched another group of refugees being herded toward the Army chopper.

It was the day my platoon was leaving Nam forever. Copters had been landing and taking off from the American Embassy all morning. Vietnamese huddle together as they anxiously waited their turn to be placed aboard the few choppers that were left.

Not everyone was going to have the chance to escape. The fear was contagious. My own desire to get on that aircraft was more than I could stand.

On one chopper, they loaded the body bags of guys I had known. On another, they crammed in the wounded, some sitting up, others, obviously close to the end. The smells of blood and antiseptic filled the air.

One of the guys grabbed for my sleeve and asked if I had a cigarette to spare.

"Sorry," I murmured, my own supply long gone.

Pulling the bandana from around my neck, I tried to wipe the grime and sweat from my face. In the background, I thought I heard a medic reporting the vital signs of a wounded buddy.

"...A male patient, approximately thirty-five years old, suffering from a gunshot wound on the left side of the chest just above the nipple line. Blood pressure is eighty over sixty, with a pulse of...ah...one-thirty. Respirations are twenty-six, regular, shallow. Left side of chest with decreased breath sounds..."

The voice was monotone, unemotional. With a roar from the engine, the craft rose swiftly from the ground. The constant clicking of the rotating blades was beginning to sound a lot like machine gun fire.

"We are on route to your facility," the voice continued. "Be advised, North Shore that this patient is a Metro Dade police officer..."

The sharp crackle of radio static drowned out the remaining dialogue, snapping me back to the painful present. My tour of Viet Nam had been over long ago. Right now, this was Miami, and I was on a Metro Dade Rescue chopper, caught up in a drama of my own.

"Here we go, buddy," the paramedic said, holding a syringe in his hand. Watching him prick the IV tubing, I anxiously waited for relief.

It felt like a blanket of ice had begun to settle over me as the hum of the helicopter engine gradually faded into the distance. Scenes and events became tangled in my mind and I struggled against the unexpected confusion, angry that I was losing control.

"Hang in there, Sonny," Rico called from far away.

It had become deathly quiet as the chopper floated through the clouds. I was in a dream and Caitlin was beside me. She was looking out over the city, crying softly.

I was aching to hold her but she didn't seem to notice.

I guess I deserved it. Lately, all we ever seemed to do was fight!

It's just that I wasn't used to having someone worry over me and sometimes her smothering concern nearly drove me crazy.

"You're overreacting." I had told her one night, a month after we were married.

"I am not overreacting!"

"Then, you're interfering."

I saw the hurt in her eyes and realized my response had been cold. I'd forgotten how cutting my belligerence could be.

I know, Catie. I promised you I'd be careful. But it all happened so fast. I...I didn't see it coming. I'm sorry, baby.

I looked over at her again but she still hadn't turned from the window.

Keep this up and you'll lose her, man.

Exhausted, I closed my eyes, and found my thoughts wandering back to the time when we first met.

It was a Monday morning, and I had just gone into Castillo's office, relieved my latest case was finally over. I'd been dogging this weapons dealer for the last four months and I was sure the audiotape I was turning over to the prosecution would guarantee a conviction. It had been a long night and all I could think about was taking a shower and catching up on some much needed sleep.

But Castillo didn't seem interested in the wonderful world of gun running. Instead, he continued to read a report in front of him, staring straight ahead, as if deep in thought. Just as I plunked the tape on his desk and began to say goodnight, he interrupted me by asking a strange question:

Did I know a Caitlin Davies?

"Yeah. I know about a lot of singers," I answered suspiciously. "I know about Aretha Franklin and Barbara Striesand, too. What does that...."

Obviously, that was all I needed to say in order to qualify for this next assignment.

He began to give me the details, managing in his usual way to ignore my hostile stare. I had been assigned a bodyguard detail, and my first reaction to this alarming bit of news was to protest loudly.

"Hey, now Marty, wait a minute!"

The body I would be guarding belonged to a Caitlin Davies, a popular singer who was about to testify in a racketeering/payola case.

He was asking me to baby-sit a damned celebrity!

"You have the look that will blend in with the music crowd," he told me bluntly.

My hair had gotten pretty long, so I guess he'd had a point. But right then, the thought of putting up with an egotistical rock star made me frantically search for a way out.

"Couldn't someone else..."

Castillo's stare stopped me cold in my tracks.

"Don't let her out of your sight until she testifies next week."

The look said no more arguments; his decision was final.

Rico tried to be sympathetic. "Why fight it. Look at it as an opportunity to get to spend some time with a legend in her own time."

"A legend in her own mind, you mean." I snarled.

She was a little thing, eyes round and luminous with a smile that tugged at my heart, despite my determination to be cold and impassive.

Spoiled, publicity brat! What did I do to deserve this gig?

She didn't think too much of me either.

"The fashion police! What are you going to do, protect me with a blow-dryer?" she asked with merry contempt.

The more she insulted me, the more sarcastic I became. It was almost as if we were searching for each other's weak spots and then competing to see which one of us could inflict the most damage. Day after day, we retreated into our own world, silently passing each other in the hallway but never giving in to a friendly glance or a civil word. I didn't like what was happening, but it had already gotten out of control. As I looked out at my car in her drive, I found myself counting the hours until it would all be over and we'd be going our separate ways.

I tried to occupy myself with simple chores, such as cleaning my gun, or checking out the perimeter of her property every hour or so. After two days, reading the sports page had started to lose its appeal and daytime television was turning my brain into mush. I did go with her to one or two of her recording sessions, but I discouraged her from leaving the house for any other reason. Whether she liked it or not, I got to call the shots, and keeping her under wraps made it a lot easier to protect her.

But after a week of being locked in together, I could tell it was starting to take its toll on us both. In a reckless act of desperation, I finally promised her she could stretch a little.

"So, I guess you'll be taking me out to dinner?" she asked one evening. It was more of a statement than a question.

"Maybe."

An hour later, she was coming down the stairs in a little black dress, presenting herself at the doorway before I could change my mind.

"I just don't want any more greasy junk food, okay," she insisted.

"I don't see why we can't just order a pizza? That's not greasy junk food."

She ignored my suggestion.

"Didn't I hear that you have a boat?" she asked, sweetly. "I know of a wonderful little place on the bay."

I'll just bet you do. And I'll bet it comes with a wonderfully high priced menu, too.

Reluctantly, I followed her out to the driveway. She had been persuasive, and I'd run out of excuses.

What the heck? Who'd be watching the water, anyway?

I was not in a good mood to begin with, and after the week I'd had, I was itching to make her pay for it in spades. We bickered through dinner, stabbing at each other with stupid little barbs. Nothing too nasty, but just enough to leave a lasting sting.

That is, until she made the one comment that finally pushed me over the edge.

She was wondering, you see, just how I managed to afford the "drug dealer" image; namely, the clothes, the boat and the Testarossa.

"What I'd like to know is, when do you have time to play cops and robbers, Crockett?" she taunted.

I had seen enough of the sleazy music industry to know how things got done in her world, and very often, high priced payoffs were the name of the game. Feeling a little insulted, I decided not to let it pass.

"First of all, I don't play. These clothes are confiscated and the department loans them to me to keep up my front. I don't even own the damn shoes I'm wearing. Let's get it straight! I'm just a working stiff making four seventy-five a week."

Her eyes widened with surprise "I didn't mean to imply..."

But I was on a roll, and even though I realized she probably didn't mean it, I wanted to make my point.

"Every time I hear one of you rock stars complaining about your lonely life on the road, I want to throw up."

The stricken look on her face must have given me some sort of satisfaction, because I was actually starting to enjoy myself.

"Oh, and I suppose you know all about it? she asked me coldly.

"Naw, I don't know nothing. I'm just a dumb cop!"

"And I'm a chick singer? Look. I didn't make up the image. It comes from magazines. I'm not even interested!"

And then, I blew it.

Sarcastically, I asked, "Oh, really! And what are you going to do, hide your face behind a raincoat when you testify in court next week?"

She looked at me as if I'd hit her.

"I think I need some air," she said angrily, throwing down her napkin as she got up from the table and went outside.

It was the first time I had regretted my insensitivity. I guess this time I'd gone too far.

Nice job, Crockett. She didn't deserve that.

Following the waiter out to the front desk, I studied the bill and groaned.

"Sixty dollars...for oysters!"

Fancy address, fancy prices.

I handed him my credit card and glanced outside to see Caitlin standing out front, looking out at the water. She was leaning against a palm tree, playing absently with the long silk scarf around her neck.

A warning whispered in my ear.

She's out in the open, man.

Hot, moist air blew in from the ocean, making it hard to draw in a breath. The sensation made me jumpy, uncomfortable. I waited impatiently for the waiter to make out the receipt, anxious to get her back on the boat and away from the curious public.

The whisper had become more insistent.

Time to go! Time to run!

The approaching danger floated toward her like the slow motion in a dream. A guy was walking up the gravel drive, watching her closely while another one was closing in on her from the left.

I barely managed to tackle her down before bullets spit into the ground around her. People started to hide behind their tables, and several women screamed when more shots rang out. We made a run for the boat, but as I started up the engine, I heard another boat's motor already roaring to life nearby. They had followed us, I realized, kicking myself for not arranging for backup.

They chased us out to sea, crippling the engine with a few well-placed rounds. Helplessly, I listened to the Scarab's engine sputter until we gradually came to a stop.

We were in trouble, out there alone on the big blue ocean.

The spotlight from their boat was getting closer.

"Get down, here!" I yelled to Caitlin. I pushed her below the passenger seats and fell over her, my mind searching frantically for an idea while I waited for their boat to pull up beside us.

The bearded guy was looking down at us and I could see the cruelty in his eyes when he smiled. I tried not to move, hoping to make him think that I was down for good.

His gun drawn, he began to board, and quickly turning to my side, I pulled off two shots, before he had the chance to react. He stared at us stupidly, hanging on to the side of the boat, and then gradually, his body slipped into the dark water, disappearing under the waves.

It was a small victory, but at least it had given me time to think. The shooter's friends weren't interested in sticking around when they saw what had happened and I was more that happy to see them speed away toward shore. Of course, I had no way of knowing if they'd return but all I cared about at that moment was getting her back to the safe house fast.

"Are you okay?" I asked her anxiously. "Cait, answer me. Are you hurt?"

Her body was trembling so badly, she could barely speak. "That man's face!" she shuddered.

"Yeah...I know."

Again and again, I turned the key in the ignition, trying to get the engine to kick over.

"Damn! Well, looks like they shot the hell out of this!" I muttered angrily. We weren't going anywhere for a while.

A stiff ocean breeze had started to kick up and Caitlin had started to shiver. She looked small and lost as I wrapped the blanket around her bare shoulders.

The attempt on her life had taken me by surprise. Obviously, she was in a lot more trouble than I'd thought. But even though she was badly frightened, there was a quite dignity about her that was starting to impress me. I had never bothered to ask her about her role in the racketeering case and now seemed as good a time as any to hear all about it.

The story she told was simple. She had helped the prosecutor set up a successful sting that would hopefully trip up Tommy Lowe, a rock star manager whose strong-arm tactics caused the death of her close friend. Lowe knew Caitlin was about to testify, and from tonight's little show, he was obviously desperate enough to do anything to stop her. But despite the danger, she made it clear she was more determined than ever to bring him down.

As I listened, I felt ashamed. I knew I had been fooled by the public image that the media had painted. Caitlin Davies was obviously untouched by the greed and glamour of the industry. I apologized that night on the boat, wishing there was a way I could take back my words.

"I'm sorry, Caitlin. I didn't know."

She reacted as if she hadn't heard me.

"When I testify, it will be for payback, not publicity!" she shouted angrily.

I put my hand on her cheek. "I'm sorry. I was wrong."

When she looked up, I could see her eyes brimming with tears.

"Maybe I was wrong, too," she said finally, sounding tired and beaten. With a small sob, she buried her face on my shoulder.

I wanted to comfort her, but before I could figure out how, she had picked up her head to look at me again. Suddenly, her lips met mine with an intensity that caught me off guard. Startled, I pulled back but she never seemed to notice. Instead, her kiss became more insistent, as if challenging me to answer back. I felt a surge of pleasure as her soft body molded against mine and without thinking, I wrapped my arms around her, kissing her hungrily.

No way had I seen this coming!

Okay, I admit, maybe I'd been a bit hostile, making snap judgments about her motives. Resenting the assignment, I never even gave her a chance. But despite my bad behavior, she'd been busy chipping away, looking for the small chinks in my armor.

Yeah. Like the other morning when I watched her diving into the pool.

I tried like hell not to notice her. It hadn't been easy. Pulling my eyes away from her body I remembered trying to ignore the restless ache I was feeling, foolishly insisting I was immune to her charms.

Immune? Not anymore, buddy.

I heard her moan softly and I knew things were spinning out of control.

Hold it, Crockett! Hold it! Slow it down! You're a cop. You're protecting her, remember?

Reluctantly, I pushed her away, coming up for air.

"Easy, darlin'." I whispered to her.

We watched each other silently, disappointment hanging in the air.

The stars had finally come out and the moon had cast a ghostly image on the surface of the water. The reflection in her eyes was holding me captive, making me grip her arms fiercely with frustration. She stood there, looking up at me, vulnerable and alone.

"Sonny..." she whispered to me longingly.

The little black tank dress was light and filmy, and I heard her sharp intake of breath as my fingers strayed under the straps. Fascinated, I slid them down off her shoulders, enjoying the feel of her silky skin.

She took my face in her hands, her lips brushing against mine and I felt her warm breath against my cheek. My determination to behave dissolved completely when I saw the mischief in her smile.

"Come here," I invited her gently as I lifted her up in my arms.

The Coast Guard had been alerted when I didn't report in, and a rather perturbed Castillo had accompanied the boat out as they searched for us along the coastline.

As the cutter pulled up along side my stranded boat, I saw him on the deck, glaring at me angrily.

Oh boy, here it comes!

I had broken quite a few rules this time. Taking her away from the protection of her four walls had been risky enough, but doing it without backup was probably going to earn me a suspension.

I saw him take a long look at Caitlin and I knew he wouldn't be fooled for long. I didn't bother to hide my feelings and to his credit, he never said a word when he saw me take her hand. For days after we got back, I waited for the reprimand, but to my surprise, it never came.

The attack on Caitlin had been vicious and well planned, so the department made the decision to hide her away in one of the Miami safe houses along the coast. This time, being so close to her nearly drive me up the wall, but protecting her was still my assignment, and somehow I would have to grit my teeth and concentrate on thinking like a cop.

Caitlin herself had other ideas.

"We have a good thing going," she whispered, as she put her arms around me in the upstairs hallway. For the moment, I'd forgotten where we were and that the house was crawling with law enforcement personnel. Locking ourselves together, we started to kiss, backing our way slowly into the bedroom behind us.

I heard a cough and looked up to see Rico standing there. A smile was playing on his lips, one eyebrows arched in amusement. For just a second, I thought I'd caught a look of disapproval run across his face but before I could be sure, he had turned away and was walking casually down the stairs.

Great!

"Hold that thought, sweetheart," I told her, turning around to follow after him.

Rico and I were close. Hell, we were damn close! Sometimes, it seemed almost as if we were breathing the same air! Every once in a while, we joked about my love life, but other than that, he had always respected my privacy. This time I'd sensed his lack of enthusiasm and his reaction was starting to annoy me.

I caught sight of him outside, waiting for me by the pool.

"Listen, Sonny." he started. "I know it's none of my business, but..."

"I know, I know, I know." I was in no mood for a lecture.

Rico shook his head. "You're not exactly keeping this thing a secret, you know. And Castillo, he's not too crazy about it either."

"I can't help that, man. What does he want me to do? He's the one who put us together. He's the one who told me to never let her out of my sight."

Yeah, but he never told you to fall in love!

I shoved a deck chair angrily as I headed back inside. I was mad at Rico. I was mad at Castillo. But my resentment didn't make sense, and I knew it. I'd been the one who'd crossed the line.

I guess it was time to take a good look at what I was doing even though my heart kept ignoring the facts.

Since my divorce, I'd had my share of disastrous relationships and chances were good that this one was going to turn out the same. Our lives were so different. We were different. Not to mention we'd only known each other a few days!

Okay. If things were moving too fast, maybe now was the time to warn her.

I felt her arms slip around my waist as she came up behind me.

"Hey. What are you thinking about?" she asked. I turned my head and smiled, almost afraid to answer.

Okay, sweetheart. Do you have any idea what it means to get involved with a cop, especially an undercover cop?

No, that wasn't the right approach.

She eyes widened with curiosity when she saw my serious expression.

"Supposin' this is over," I started.

"You mean this?" she asked, looking around her.

"Yeah. This. And we're back in the real world. With this kind of work, I have cases all the time where I'm out half the night. Sometimes all night."

"I work long hours at the studio, too," she reassured me. "I'm not afraid of work."

But you don't know anything about me. You don't even know who I really am.

"Listen, Caitlin. I've been married and I've been divorced. I've lived alone, and not alone. I've run around and I've been celibate as a monk. So...I guess whatever happens between us, well...I guess I can live with that, too."

Come to think of it, when was the last time I could say I'd had a stable, meaningful relationship?

But she was stubborn, and she wasn't buying it.

"Whatever happens is what we make happen."

Honey, you just don't get it!

I laughed as I kissed her.

Of course, I wasn't finished dishing it out just yet. I'd made sure to save the best part for last.

"I have a kid."

She didn't even flinch.

"What flavor?"

"A boy. Billy. He's eight."

"So. When do I get to meet him?"

"Do you know what it means?"

She stuck out her chin defiantly.

"I ain't afraid of no kid!"

I smiled at her wide-eyed innocence, and shook my head helplessly.

I guess talking her out of loving me was not going to be so easy.

The kid grinned with delight as he maneuvered the gearshift into second.

"Smooth, huh?"

"Not bad, son. Just like Danny Sullivan."

He sat back in the bucket seat with a sigh of satisfaction.

"Your Mom was pretty good about you missing a day or two this time."

"Yeah, she's pretty loose since she married Bob."

I laughed. "Oh, she is, is she?"

"Dad. Do you really like Caitlin?"

Just like Caroline, he had come right to the point.

My eyes stayed on the road as I answered. "Yes. Yes I do."

"You must really like her, Dad. You never had me meet anyone before."

"Well there never was anyone to meet before," I said, looking over at him.

The kid was too smart. Grinning, he answered, "Right, Dad." His awareness startled me. I looked over at him with new interest.

This boy was almost like a stranger. I had missed so much. In fact, it had been quite awhile since I'd last seen him. He had really grown up, with a wisdom way beyond his eight years. But then, I guess kids of divorced parents needed to grow up fast in order to survive.

I carried his bags in from the car, wondering worriedly how this was going to turn out.

She was already standing there, waiting for us by the door. Quickly, I hustled her inside.

"What are you doing out here? You know you shouldn't be out in the open," I scolded.

She ignored me as she smiled at the boy. So, I made the introductions.

"Caitlin, meet Billy. Billy, Caitlin," I said, beginning to feel stupid. Billy looked up at Caitlin, shyly.

"If you get your suit on, I'll show you the neatest pool. It even has a slide," she told him.

Caitlin obviously knew her way around kids.

The phone started ringing, and I left them to get acquainted.

It was Rico.

"It's over. They iced Tommy Lowe."

"Oh, no! How?"

"Plastics. They're still looking for all the pieces. Guess he was a liability with the upcoming trial. Anyway, Castillo says the assignment's over."

"Wait a minute, man, she's a bigger target now than before!" I protested. "She's still gonna need protection."

"That's not how the District Attorney sees it. She was going to testify against Tommy Lowe. Anyway, it's not our case anymore, Sonny. You have to come in."

"Great, man. That's just great."

Caitlin was alone on the deck, looking out at the ocean, her skirt billowing out from the gentle breeze. She smiled at me as I came up behind her.

"Hi," she said warmly. "That's some kid you've got there, Crockett. You should have heard some of his questions. It's amazing how he comes right to the point. Very grown up for an eight year old."

"Get's that from his mother," I said grimly leaning against the railing.

"What's wrong?" she asked with concern.

I told her about Tommy Lowe.

"The case is over, but that doesn't mean we have to be," she insisted. She was determined to convince me we belonged together.

Laughing at her directness, I looked down into her eyes only to realize how serious she was. I hesitated, almost afraid to give in to my usual impulsiveness. She was right. We did have a good thing going.

"Okay...then I want to try," I said simply.

"Try? Try what?" she started to tease as she began to weave herself around me. "Deep and abiding respect? Hmmm? Oh, I know! A short-term romantic liaison! Or, perhaps it's a long lasting friendship? Is that it, Sonny?"

Her eyes were full of mischief. "Come on. I gotta know."

"Very cute." Confused and uncomfortable, I ducked out of the room, only to be drawn back by her infectious laughter.

"God!" I groaned.

"God's not going to help you now!" she scolded lightly.

"You're going to make me do this. You're going to make me do the whole thing?"

"Yes. The whole thing."

For Caitlin, I knew it had to be all or nothing. No occasional dates, not even living together for a while. I felt an intense pull of longing as I looked at her sitting in the big wicker chair by the balcony, waiting for my answer.

Marriage. I had done it once and the pain of losing Caroline and Billy had almost destroyed me. But even in this short time of being with Caitlin, the depression and bitterness had lifted. She made me feel whole again and I didn't want to lose that.

I knelt next to her feeling a little foolish. "Caitlin..." I started. But before I could continue, her hand reached for my face, and she shushed me gently.

"I love you, Sonny Crockett," she said with an intensity that was startling.

I was never so sure of anything before in my life as I looked back into her eyes. "I love you, too," I whispered, folding her into my arms.

No one thought it would work. But we wanted it to be forever and no one could talk us out of it.

"What about you?" I asked Rico. By the look he gave me, I could tell he was reluctant to answer.

"Well," he hesitated. "I'm a little happy and I'm a little worried."

Rico knew the risks. He had watched the job kill many marriages and relationships. I appreciated the concern but right now, all I wanted was his blessing.

I know this one. I can feel it. She's the one, man.

He smiled knowingly. He could tell I would never listen.

"If this is it, then I'm happy for you. Good luck, buddy."

Good friend, lousy liar. But then, it was like Rico said, "Good friends usually are."

Things had happened so fast I never had time to consider the pitfalls. I hadn't been fair to Caitlin. I should have carefully explained to her how much undercover work was a part of my existence. To me, the bust was everything, the adrenaline-rush almost impossible to give up. Caroline, my first wife, had known it. Hell! That's what had driven her away.

Cait's life was no box of chocolates, either. How were we going to keep the romance alive when we were constantly being followed by hordes of picture taking publicity hounds? She was always in the limelight and my job required absolute anonymity. Both of us had gone into this marriage blindly and both of us were going to pay the price.

But on that Sunday afternoon in May, we didn't have a care in the world as we took the leap and tied the knot. Our friends had come to wish us well. Ignoring their nervous glances and wooden smiles, I held her close to my heart, feeling happier than I had felt in a very long time.

It took a good month before we realized that our lives had become an impossible juggling act. My job got her bad publicity and her image brought me too much attention. The tension between us was building and I knew she was troubled. The week, before she left for the tour to promote her new album, she looked as if the world was coming to an end.

"I know it's different worlds, Sonny," she had said sadly. "Please tell me we can make it work."

"Or die trying," I had whispered softly, trying to reassure her.

Not exactly the best choice of words, Crockett!

The chopper was just beginning to shift its direction as it approached the roof of North Shore Hospital. I looked over at the window again, but Cait was gone. Deep down inside, I guess I knew she'd never been there at all.

"Catie!" I cried out.

Let me make things right.

I gripped the stretcher as pain ripped through me, hot tears burning my eyes.

"Don't worry," the paramedic said, glancing at Rico with concern. "The stuff I gave him should be kicking in soon."

"No, I don't think it's the pain," Rico said, visibly shaken. "He's calling for his wife."

He leaned closer.

"Listen, Sonny...we'll get her here. I promise. Rest easy, buddy." He put his hand on my shoulder and I closed my eyes with relief.

Rico had made me a promise...and Rico never let me down.

They quickly maneuvered the stretcher from the hospital roof and shoved it onto the elevator. "So what'd they get him with?" I heard someone ask as the doors slid shut.

"A .380 semiautomatic. It hit his badge!" Rico answered.

"That was lucky! Saved his life for now."

The elevator landed with a jerk and the stretcher was quickly pushed out into a roar of massive confusion. I squinted against the glare of the fluorescent lights while white ceiling tiles flew by. Marty and Rico hurried along together, following the stretcher into the main trauma room.

"You two, you don't belong here. Sorry but you'll have to go down the hall!" a deep voice shouted.

No! Wait!

"I want the IV's wide open," I heard someone say. "Go ahead and inflate the mast suit, all the compartments. I want him typed and crossed for 6 units of blood, I want 2 units of 0 negative blood, now."

Nurses in blue scrubs were hanging IV's and drawing blood from my arm. One doctor frowned as he listened to my chest with his stethoscope.

"There's almost no air exchange," he shouted. "...And his O2 sat is falling. We're going to have to get him up to the OR in a hurry, but we'd better intubate him here first."

I struggled to sit up, my arms thrashing wildly.

Hands off, buddy...I need to breathe...come on...I mean it...let me up...

"We need some assistance over here now, please!"

"Get back down, Detective...It's okay, we're trying to help you..."

"We need that sedation...now, please!"

"Okay...Get his arm...right there..."

"That's it...calm down, now, it's okay..."

"Do you have it ready? Hold him...Yeah, okay..."

No, no wait!!

Furious, I looked up at the faces above me.

At first, I didn't recognize the big guy standing back from the pack.

But then it hit me.

Couldn't be him. I watched him die!!

The last time I saw him was a few years ago, and the horror of that bloody morning at the maximum-security prison was one I had hoped to forget forever. I had been sitting in front of Jesus Moroto in the interrogation room, watching helplessly as he shot himself behind the ear. The homemade gun was very effective; blood and brain had splattered everywhere. But before he had pulled that trigger, he had promised me payback. My guess was he had finally come to collect.

His vengeful eyes and icy smile filled me with dread. No one seemed to notice him put his hands around my throat, viciously tightening his grip until my air was almost gone.

I put up a pretty good fight. It wouldn't be easy to take me down. Frantically, I swung my fist, landing a good one to his jaw.

"Hey! John, would you come over here..." I heard someone shout.

Noo!

Strong hands pinned me to the stretcher.

Wait, wait...you don't understand...

Moroto continued to laugh.

"You're one tough cop, Crockett. It takes a tough cop to bust me. Now, we'll see how tough you really are."

He showed me the syringe filled with dark yellow liquid. Holding it up to the light, he flicked at the bubbles with a satisfied smile.

Can't you see what he's doing?

For a horrible moment, I watched as he jammed the needle into the IV tubing, pushing the plunger to the hilt. Squeezing my eyes shut, I waited for the dreaded nothingness and wondering seriously if I would ever wake up again. But seconds later, it no longer mattered as my hold on the real world was replaced by the shattering images of a drug-induced nightmare

A black angry sea was all around me and the Scarab was skimming over the choppy waves while the wind slapped crazily at my face. I was racing toward the heavy clouds that blotted out the stars, while behind me, came the distant rumble of thunder.

Glancing down at the compass dial for guidance I realized the console lights were out. I shook my head, trying to bring back some clarity. The guttural engine sounds were becoming louder as I pushed the throttle forward, the water smacking at the bow as my speed increased.

Faster...

To the left, jagged lightning streaks pierced the water's surface. Storms never bothered me in the past, but now with the instruments out, I had no sense of direction except for my gut instinct. I had no idea how far I'd gone out and I knew that dangerous winds could develop quickly in this part of the world.

Light rain was starting to fall. Then, off to my right, I was able to make out the faint impression of the shoreline. Turning the wheel sharply, I tried desperately to correct my course.

A gusty breeze chased behind me, whipping the waves into a frenzy. The boat rose high with a swell and then slammed to the surface with teeth-shattering force. Clutching the wheel, I cringed in pain and then, with a gasp, I opened my eyes.

The wild ride was over.

Gone was the roar of the speedboat's motor. Gone was the sensation of flying over the sea. There was no boat and I didn't see a harbor. So I guess that meant there had never been a storm.

It didn't really matter. I had found my way home.

The morning sunlight filtered through the glass-cubed window of Marty's office. He was there, in his familiar black, already engrossed in a mountain of paper work.

My desk was there, too. I could see the files I had been working on yesterday still stacked on the side.

The incessant ringing of a phone began to hammer in my head.

Stan scooped up the receiver with a yawn.

"Switek, here." He must have just gotten in. His unopened bag of donuts was still clutched in his hand.

Rico was coming back from the coffee machine, looking startled with something he had just heard. "What was that you said? He went where?"

His eyes seemed to stare in my direction, but from his blank expression, I could tell he never saw me.

"Sonny left at around seven this morning. Said something about the Loco Mendez meet," Switek was saying to him. "He also said you'd know where to go and that you were to join him when you finally got in to work."

I saw Rico grimace as he caught the dig. Glancing at his watch, he said, "It's eight am. For once he beats me in and now he's playing hot-shot?"

He drank the searing liquid in his Styrofoam cup a little too quickly and winced as it almost blistered his upper lip. "How high is the temperature set on that machine anyway?!" he bellowed.

I smiled at Rico's annoyance. I had done the same thing to myself a hundred times.

"Damn it, Crockett. At least wait for back up," he muttered, his voice laced with guilt.

Castillo came out of his office, looking at Rico with his cold, measuring eyes.

"Tell Crockett I want the report this afternoon and then, I want to see him in my office." Marty didn't like his detectives playing cowboy and it looked like I was going to get reamed for not following procedure.

Yeah, well, it wouldn't be the first time.

"I'll let him know, Lieutenant," he answered, lost in thought.

I knew Rico pretty well, and I was sure he was worrying that I might be in some kind of trouble.

"I'll let him know," he repeated as he hurried outside to the OCB parking lot.

Like all dreams, the scene had quickly shifted and I found myself back on the docks, where Rico and I had met with Mendez the night before.

The place looked harmless enough in the daylight. I watched as Rico scanned the adjacent junkyard stacked with mounds of trash. He was tense and alert, his revolver ready at his side. As he poked into the remains of the smoldering heaps of debris, his head turned in all directions.

"Sonny?" he called out, listening intently for an answer.

I felt frozen in a huge block of ice and the unfamiliar helplessness infuriated me.

Rico was releasing the safety on his pistol. He'd come to the water's edge, peering into the window of one of the storage warehouses. Something must have caught his attention, because he had started to tug on the heavy sliding door.

It was only mid morning and already the tropical sun had been beating down without mercy. As Rico entered the cavernous storeroom, I saw him step back as a blast of heat hit him full in the face. Whatever he saw made him hesitate, and I watched with interest as he brought his gun forward, crouching cautiously. Even in the shadows, it was not difficult to see the outline of my white Testarossa.

Rico snapped his head around, his eyes sweeping the area as he eased inside. He glanced at the car anxiously. The door to the passenger's side was open but the car was empty. Someone had left the keys in the ignition. With the same wariness, he circled the rear of the car.

I heard his startled gasp and saw someone lying by the driver's side. Rico knelt down, to turn the body over and I froze when I saw my own eyes, glazed and unfocused.

"Sonny, no! Come on, man! Don't do this!" His voice was choked, barely audible.

Stunned, I pushed the image away.

This wasn't happening!

"Sonny!"

Again, I heard Rico calling my name, but this time, I jerked awake, my body shivering with relief. Forcing my eyes to open, I looked around me fearfully. Nothing seemed familiar, but at that moment, all that mattered to me was that I could see, I could feel, and I was alive.

Instead of a warehouse, I seemed to be in a room enclosed in glass. Machines and blinking lights were everywhere and I could hear an incessant beeping sound.

I remembered I'd been shot and I figured I must be in a hospital, probably intensive care. For some reason it was difficult to move and my breathing seemed to be synchronized with a steady whoosh sounding close to my ear.

A respirator!

The seriousness of the situation hit me hard. As a cop, I faced danger every day, but ending up permanently helpless was something I had always feared the most. Connected to a respirator meant that I had lost control over my life and all I could think about at that moment was being tethered to a machine forever.

The tape that secured the rigid tube in my throat was pulling the skin on my face. I tried to cough, but found the effort too painful. Behind my head, a warning buzzer began to sound loudly, as if I'd suddenly been caught attempting to escape.

I closed my eyes, trying not to give into the panic.

"Sonny, come on, wake up man."

Rico!

He was sitting on the edge of my bed, holding my hand, his expression haunted with regret. I could just make out Castillo and Trudy standing over to the side.

"I never should have let him take Loco Mendez alone!" Rico was saying. "The girl...we never figured..."

"Don't." Marty told him, looking away. "You know better than to second guess. It doesn't help matters."

His words were harsh, but that was typical of Marty. Rico glared at him angrily but instead of saying what was on his mind, he looked back at me and sighed.

"Yeah," he said softly.

I felt him grip my hand tightly.

Damn it Rico! Stop it! Think of all the times you saved my ass. You forget that I was the one who decided to surprise Loco Mendez and take off on my own

"Sonny would hate seeing you doing this to yourself, Rico," Trudy said sharply, as if she were reading my mind.

"Remember a few years back when Sonny and I cornered that dealer in that alley?" she asked, putting her arms around him. "I was still pretty new back then. You have no idea how petrified I was. That guy had Sonny in his sights, and I only had a second to decide what to do. So, I followed my instincts and fired right at him. When Sonny told me I'd shot that man to death, my whole world turned upside down. Never killed anyone before that night. And by the time IAD got finished with me, I was ready to quit."

She shook her head and laughed.

"Boy, did Sonny yell at me. He was shouting all the way back to the office. But you know...he said what I needed to hear. He told me that there had been one play to make and that I had made it."

Rico shook his head. "It's not the same. I should have seen it coming. I should have talked him out of going up there without me."

"Come on! You know how he listens. Besides, the Lieutenant's right. You can't second-guess every decision you make. You're under a lot of stress out there on the streets and sometimes you only have seconds to make a choice. For Sonny, that was the play he had to make and you know he never waits around for permission. You would have never been able to stop him."

She stood up straight. "I was pretty grateful to have him in my corner that day," she said, so low, I could barely hear her.

"Wish I had taken the time to tell him how I felt."

Smiling wistfully, she leaned over the bed, her face close to mine.

"Hey, Sonny." She took my hand. "You're going to get well for us, you hear? You have to put up a fight... we...we need you...you have to come back to us." The sadness in her tone touched me and I squeezed her hand.

"That's right," she said excitedly when she saw my fingers move. "Come on. That's it!"

I felt her stroke the hair off my forehead.

"Thanks, Sonny." she whispered with a kiss.

Day, night, it was impossible to tell.

I drifted in an out, watching nurses as they came in to adjust the machines. Whatever medication they injected into the IV would numb me for a while but when it wore off, I would wake up startled and confused.

"It's okay, Sonny. I'm here."

Gina!

The familiar voice filled me with hope.

Please let her be real!

She touched my face, her eyes sparkling with tears. Powerless to make a sound, I turned my head away in frustration

Don't leave, Gina! Please don't leave!

For a second, I thought she'd heard me.

"Sonny. You're not alone. I'll stay as long as they let me."

She never failed to see right through me.

There had been a time, not that long ago, when Gina and I had been very close.

Caroline and I had just separated, and I was living on The St. Vitus Dance, a sailboat that served as my undercover home. It had been three months since I had moved out of my house, and the nights were becoming long and lonely.

The crew at OCB knew what I was going through. They tiptoed around me carefully letting me know, in their own quiet way, that they were there if I needed them.

Once or twice, I had invited Gina out to dinner, but each time, she had politely turned me down. One night we had been out partying with Rico and Trudy as an "undercover couple" and this time when I asked her to the boat for a nightcap, she accepted. Now that we were finally alone I was able to watch her reaction as I carefully tested the waters.

We stood together on deck and laughed as we recalled some of the lighter moments from some of our cases together. The heat during the day had been brutal. She threw her head back and closed her eyes, sighing with relief as she felt the cool ocean breezes against her skin.

Her gorgeous black hair fell in thick waves around her face. I'd seen Gina in all kinds of outfits when she was undercover, some which left little to the imagination. But that night, she was dressed for a party in a white cocktail dress that left me reeling with anticipation. When I saw her standing there, in the moonlight, all I could think of was how attracted I was to this beautiful, sexy woman. The only thing I could do about it right then, was pray that she felt the same.

The lights from the city reflected off the water adding to the romance of the moment and I filled her wine glass for the second time. She saw me watching her and sensed what was on my mind.

"Sorry, Crockett but I have a strict rule never to go out with a man on the rebound. You're in love with your wife. Don't deny it. You still love Caroline."

Challenge was in her eyes as I came towards her slowly.

"Try again, lady." I answered, not too sure just who I was trying to convince.

She didn't resist as I took her in my arms, and when I kissed her, she responded eagerly.

"You know, Crockett, I don't need this," she finally whispered as I held her tightly against me.

With a wicked smile I told her gently, "Oh, but I think you do."

Without a word, she pushed me away and by the serious look she gave me, I was sure she was about to leave. Instead, I watched in a trance as she walked slowly to the galley stairs and climbed down to the cabin below.

I remember looking out at the water and finishing my drink slowly. It was a beautiful night and there was no sense in rushing the lady.

Besides, I wanted to savor the moment.

From across the boat, I could hear Elvis growling as if he resented Gina's intrusion. His beady eyes fixed on me as I passed him in the dark.

"What are you lookin' at?" I growled back, playfully, as I started to take off my jacket.

He answered with his reptile grin, and I laughed at the thought that he might actually be attempting to chastise me.

"Too bad," I snapped back at him jauntily. "Complain all you want but whether you like it or not, buddy, tonight's a night you're gonna sleep topside."

So, Gina and I had been intense there for a while. Inseparable, I guess you could say. But after a year, we started to drift apart. I told myself it was the hours on the job that kept me off balance, and stupidly, I took what we had for granted. To make matters worse, I didn't hide the other women that came into my life. Even though it must have hurt, she tried not to show that it bothered her.

There was one time she said to me "You know, Crockett? I'm just a pit stop for you, whenever it's convenient. And let me tell you, it doesn't feel very good."

When things got serious with Caitlin, facing Gina had been the hardest thing I'd ever had to do. For the first time, she was forced to accept that the kind of love she had wanted from me was not going to happen. The betrayal in her eyes hit me like an angry slap.

After that, we still worked together every day, facing the same dangers and watching out for one another like we did before. But lately, I'd noticed that she was quiet and guarded around me. I guess it was easier for her to keep things distant, but I missed her warmth and easygoing laughter.

I could see Tubbs had put his arm around her shoulder as she sat beside me and she looked up at him solemnly.

"You look tired," he said to her.

"I'm okay, Rico," she answered quietly. "I think I'll just stay a while, though. Sonny's so restless, and he keeps opening his eyes. I'm not sure if he can see me, but if he can, at least he'll know one of us is here."

"He's tough, Gina. He'll beat this."

"I hope so, Rico," she said, resting her head on his hand.

A tall, white haired gentleman in green scrubs strode into the room.

"I'm Dr. Stillman, Chief of Surgery. Are you his lieutenant?" I heard him ask.

"Yes. Martin Castillo."

"Has his family been notified?"

"We're still trying to locate his wife," Rico answered without looking up.

"What are his chances, Doctor?" Castillo asked.

"It's too early to say right now. We've, repaired all the major damage, but we will have to go back in for the bullet."

"Why didn't you get it out the first time?" Rico asked with surprise.

The doctor glanced at him coolly. "It was too risky. The slug has moved closer to the spine. I'd feel better if we had a specialist look in on this case, so we're waiting for a neuro-surgeon to fly in from Atlanta."

"So, you're saying that there's a possibility that he may be paralyzed?"

"Our main concern was saving his life. Beyond that, I can't rule out the possibility of paralysis. I strongly recommend that you get in touch with his wife as soon as possible."

I felt the tiny pinprick of despair. It had never occurred to me that I would have to wage more than one battle. I had thought that if I could just survive the initial shock, and have time to heal, I'd be back to business as usual. The cold numbness that had plagued me since I woke up began to take on new meaning.

Life without movement, or at the very least, life in a wheelchair, would be unthinkable.

No, as a matter of fact, it was unacceptable.

Stop it, Crockett. Time. You just need time. Give into this self-pity and the fight is over.

I tried to distract myself with their conversation.

"I haven't been able to get in touch with Caitlin's manager," Tubbs was saying. "Gina, what exactly did he tell you when you spoke to him?"

She was quiet for the moment and I knew the question had caught her off guard.

"Gina, talk to me!"

She took a deep breath as if trying to get control.

"She's performing tonight in Munich," she answered bitterly. "The manager was very polite. He said he got my first message and he promised he'd tell her right after the concert. But when I asked to speak to her, he kept putting me off, telling me she couldn't come to the phone."

"Give it another try," Castillo said to Rico. "If he gives you the run around again, I'll take care of it."

After Rico left, Castillo turned back to look at Gina, calmly waiting for her to speak.

"I did try, Lieutenant," she said finally, walking over to the window and looking out into the street.

He didn't answer, but instead, continued to study her.

"You don't have to say it. I know what you're thinking," she murmured against the glass.

"Gina..." Castillo said with a sigh.

"It's not right, Lieutenant. Her manager protects her from everything. He doesn't want her distracted when she's performing."

I heard her voice start to break from emotion.

"After all, this is her comeback. This whole tour is a big investment! But I told the manager how serious things were with Sonny!" Her voice was getting desperate. "She should be here with him, damn it! He needs her!"

The truth in her words chilled me. It was the first time I'd felt really alone.

No, Gina. Caitlin will come. They'll tell her what's happening and she'll come.

Castillo had pulled Gina over to the doorway.

"He might hear you," I heard him say in a hushed tone.

She glanced over at me fearfully.

"I agree with you," he told her. "He needs you here."

She looked away from him, trying to avoid his stare.

"But just remember, Gina," he continued. "You're his friend. Caitlin is his wife."

Her shoulders stiffened and I saw her hand tighten around his arm.

"You don't need to remind me of that, Lieutenant. It's a fact that stares me in the face every day."

Gina. Don't!

Her hand brushed against her cheek quickly.

"He tried to be a friend, but I pushed him away. I guess I was bitter, angry. So, now I've missed my chance to say I'm sorry." She put her head on Castillo's shoulder and he put his arms around her.

"The truth is, Lieutenant, being here tonight may be the only way I have left to tell him that I care."

Rich crimson drops of blood dripped slowly into my veins.

Guys that had survived near-fatal wounds in Nam used to tell me what it was like to go into shock. Some said it was as if your body was splitting off into pieces, a little at a time. As long as your will was strong, you could keep going for a while.

But once they couldn't patch up the holes anymore, it was just a matter of time.

The tone in Stillman's voice told me just how worried he'd become.

"I don't like this. His pressure is dropping again."

"How much blood has he had?" a female voice was asking.

"Three units in the ER and another three since this morning."

I heard the bed curtain pulled aside.

"Dr. Stillman, here's the CBC results you asked for."

"Thanks."

"Okay. Just how bad is it?"

I thought I heard him sigh. "If we don't act fast, we're going to lose him. Okay, let's get him back to surgery. Call the OR and start things rolling!"

The bed was moving, pushed from behind.

"What happened?" I heard Rico asked from far away.

"He's hemorrhaging," Stillman answered. "We can't wait for the specialist. We'll have to go in after the slug right now."

Crepe soles slapped frantically on the cold tile floor. Automatic doors swung open as the stretcher careened into the operating suite.

"On the count of three...One. Two...Three..."

The motion was smooth, coordinated as they slid me off the stretcher and onto a hard surface. Thoughts of survival seemed far away. A warm floating sensation took over my thoughts as the anesthesia began to numb my senses. The effect was soothing, almost hypnotic.

I'd heard from somewhere that once you gave up, the end came pretty fast.

How easy it would be to just let go!

My mind started racing with a thousand thoughts while feelings of guilt and anguish washed over me.

I love you Cait. But I'm tired of fighting the pain...forgive me, baby...forgive me for leaving you...

And Billy...you know kid, maybe...maybe you would be better off with Bob...God knows, I haven't been much of a father...or at least, that's what your mother keeps telling me...

Just...just don't let him forget me, Caroline...please, promise me that much...

Tubbs...if you're there Tubbs, then I hope I'm getting through somehow... Don't blame yourself...it's like Trudy said...going up those back stairs alone — that was my decision...

And Lieutenant. Take care of things for me, will you? Make sure they're all okay... I know I can trust you...I've always trusted you...And...and thanks, Marty...for...well...you know...thanks...

God...maybe this isn't the right time...dying, I mean...

My heart was pounding frantically, like fists against my chest.

"I don't like this rhythm," a voice was saying. "It's much more irregular since he came back from surgery. Jayne, page Dr. Stillman before this gets out of hand. And...bring the code cart on your way back. I think we're going to need it."

The overhead pager had come to life.

"Dr. Stillman, to the ICU, stat. Dr. Stillman."

The bleep from the monitor paused and followed by the wail of a piercing alarm.

"Code One, ICU! Code One, ICU!" a voice was screaming as I faded into darkness.

Hey, Rico! Where are you? You gotta get in here and talk me out of this, man!

There was the sound of hurrying footsteps and urgent shouting. I could hear it very clearly, but it seemed so far away. I was looking down from somewhere above. I could see several people leaning over a prone figure that somehow I knew had to be me.

"Let's get him on the board!"

Not so sure I want to go back.

I watched the nurses frantically pump my chest as they tried desperately to revive me. I wanted to yell at them to give it up, because without me joining in the fight, they wouldn't have a prayer.

I could see the waiting room beyond and familiar faces began to catch my attention. There was Switek, his face pressed to the glass of the observation window.

"Please, not again!" I heard him whisper.

I watched him sympathetically. Losing a partner could do some awful things to your mind. I'd been through it with Eddie.

I know you're still hurting about Larry, Stan. I'm sorry, big guy!

Someone was pulling Stan away, and I recognized Izzy, the crazy Cuban with the coke bottle glasses. His frantic Spanish accent still managed to rile me like nails on a chalkboard.

"Don't torture yourself, mang," he yelled to Stan as he began to gesture wildly. "They know what they are doing. Let's go inside with the others and let these professionals do their thing." Stan started to protest, but he was forced to step back as more equipment and several doctors rushed past him.

Marty sat by the waiting room door, as if guarding the entrance. Seeing him there like that was comforting in a way. His image was something I needed to hold on to, while I was trying to make up my mind.

He was someone I'd always looked up to. And no matter what, he had never given up on me. He had taught me to be more tolerant, more patient. Even the time I had shot that kid, he would not let me wallow in self-pity, but instead he made me deal with it and accept the pain it had caused.

I had never really thanked him for that one.

A few of my old buddies from burglary must have stopped by, and Marty got up to talk to them. The look of warning he gave them stopped them in their tracks.

"He's having some problems right now, you'll have to wait out here with us," he told them.

The Lieutenant's voice was calm and steady, but his worried eyes betrayed him. Marty, the cool one, rarely emotional, but now, I saw him fighting for control. The depth of his feelings surprised me.

The room had become quiet; each one of my friends seemed lost in their own thoughts. Still there was no word from Stillman.

I saw Trudy begin to move closer to Gina.

Tubbs stood by the window, watching the rain drench the Miami streets. The intense apprehension in his eyes filled me with dread.

Goodbye, buddy. We had a good run

"Clear!" a voice shouted.

A powerful jolt of electrical current zapped through me causing my back to arch from excruciating pain. I felt myself falling to the bed with a thud, my nerve endings screaming for relief.

I knew what had happened. My heart had stopped and they had shocked me back.

Suddenly, I felt cheated, furious that I had lost control once again. The skin on my chest was burning, on fire. That high- pitched bleeping sound had returned. Like Chinese water torture, it refused to let me rest.

The heavy blackness had lifted and I became aware of a brightness that was almost blinding. A woman was leaning over me, looking into my eyes with a tiny penlight. Petite, blonde, blue eyes, attractive. Hadn't seen this one before.

She smiled with obvious pleasure when she caught me squinting up at her.

"Well, looks like you've decided to join us. Welcome back, Detective Crockett."

Everything hurt but I welcomed the pain. It took tremendous effort to move and as I attempted to bring my hand to my face, I realized I couldn't raise it at all.

"We can take off the restraints, now. You're not on the respirator anymore."

It was true. I breathed deeply, filling my lungs with sweet fresh air.

The walls of the room were blue, the lighting soft and subdued. The metal frame of a bed rail was just at eye level and behind my head came the sound of the heart monitor, beeping a steady rhythm.

"He's coming around, Lieutenant. Sonny!"

Memories of the last several days began to flood back.

"If it hadn't been for that helicopter, we would never have gotten you out of the station in time," Rico was saying. "Angel Montapena. Dangerous little lady. But she's out of commission, now. Indicted this afternoon, for the attempted murder of James Sonny Crockett."

Rico was leaning over the side rail, looking animated as he spilled out this one sided conversation. I could see him watching me closely; his warm eyes bright with emotion. "Everything's going to be okay, now, Sonny," he said as he reached over to put his hand on my shoulder. "And Caitlin? She's on the Concorde. She'll be here in a couple of hours."

I smiled up at him. "Thanks, man," I said, amazed at how harsh my voice had become.

My vision was clearing and I started to become more aware of the people around me.

Trudy and Gina looked so tired. Their clothing seemed to have that rumpled, slept-in look. And there was Switek, at the foot of the bed sipping his coffee, while Izzy paced back and forth, stopping from time to time to give me a nervous wink. As I scanned the room, I caught sight of the Lieutenant standing back, observing us quietly from the shadows.

I had never been alone. They'd been with me through it all.

I smiled gratefully.

No, I wasn't saying good-bye to anyone just yet.

Shifting slowly to my side, I bent my leg at the knee and felt the familiar twinge from my old football injury.

My second biggest fear had been put to rest.

"Here, Sonny," Gina said, putting the flattened slug in my hand. She closed my fingers carefully around it, holding my hand in hers for just a moment.

Everyday, in my line of work, I get to see the damage a bullet can do. I rolled the small piece of metal between my fingers. Now, it felt light, like a harmless toy.

Hard to believe it had almost destroyed me.

I thought about my old partner, Evan Freed. He had tempted fate when he told me that somewhere out there was a bullet with my name on it. At the time, I had pushed the thought from my mind, knowing that I could never function as a cop if I left it there.

Freed had made sure that he caught the bullet meant for him because by that time, he'd stopped caring if he lived or died.

I guess I got lucky. I'd been given another chance.

Hell, there were a lot of things I needed to do before I checked out for good! Things I guess I should have taken care of a long time ago.

Funny how we always think that we're going to have tomorrow.

Credits

1. "A Bullet For Crockett" Teleplay: Peter Lance & Michael Duggan, Story: Dick Wolf

2. "Back In The World" : page 4. Writer: David Jackson

3. "Like A Hurricane" : pages 6-14. Writer: Robert Palm

4. "Rock and A Hard Place" : page 14. Writer: Dick Wolf

5."Payback" : page 15-16. Writer: Robert Crais

6."Dutch Oven" : page 19. Writer: Maurice Hurley

7."Brother's Keeper" : page 20-21. Writer: Anthony Yerkovich

8."Nobody Lives Forever" : page 21. Writer Edward DiLorenzo

9."Evan" : page 26. Writer: Paul Diamond