Word Count: 968
A/N: For the lostfichallenge prompt 'Happily Ever After'.
Summary: Kevin deals with the aftermath of 'Monica'.
When Kevin woke up, he wasn't too sure what was happening – it was like a parallel dimension, like a mirror-verse. Everything was wrong and topsy-turvy and his good, clean wife was a murderous fugitive. That just didn't make any well-thinking kind of sense, now did it?
He sat up and rubbed at his forehead: must've had too much to drink last night, enough to make him hallucinate and pass out on the floor. Only explanation. Only possible explanation.
Monica was gonna have a giggling fit at him when he told her.
Only his Momma's pendant was in his hand when Monica should have been wearing it, and he was pretty damn sure that he wasn't imagining any of the memories that were popping up in his head.
His Monica, a criminal?
His stomach turned but the mirror-verse stayed as he got to his feet.
It didn't take all that long for him to become the laughing stock of the 'force. Couldn't say he was surprised, and he sure would've laughed at any other cop that had been buried so deep by a girl like that.
Monica- Kate, her name was Kate.
Kate hadn't been like any girl he'd ever met. Not a girl at all, really. A lady, all grown up and mature. She could've kicked his ass any time she wanted to: bit of a turn-on, in a hidden deep-down way. Nice boys didn't have thoughts like that.
Naughty girls like Kate probably did.
He threw his pen down onto the desk and stared out the window: paperwork could wait. There was always more where that came from anyway.
Brooding, though. Kevin reckoned that brooding was something that always ought to take top priority.
The woman smiled at him and he wasn't too sure what that meant: an invitation, or just the product of pity.
Her eyes were hard needles and her jaw had a stubborn clench to it. She looked like she was waiting for a punch at every second, like she was prepared and ready and wanting it.
Maybe she even deserved it; Kevin wasn't going to be the one to judge. He'd leave that to the big man upstairs.
Her smile was still there, stilted and awkward now, so he returned it. "I'm Kevin. It sure is nice to meet you…" He left the gap stretched open for her name.
She grinned wider, until predatory teeth showed like a tiger. "Ana. Ana-Lucia," she provided. When she stuck her hand out to shake his, her grip was like a metallic vice. "It's a pleasure."
She reintroduced him to bars and clubs and the sleazy side of town that he was usually real careful to avoid. He wasn't 'that kind of man', after all.
He thought that maybe Ana was turning him into exactly that.
Then he thought that maybe he didn't mind too much.
He could describe her skin as coffee or caramel or toffee or a thousand other edible items, but that might be a discourtesy and he was sure she'd scowl at him if he tried.
Instead, he described it as beautiful. There was a scar on her stomach and she wouldn't tell him where it was from: he was tempted to get a friend from the station to look it up. After Monica-Kate, he'd been feeling a little bit burned for the past year.
Burned fingers playing with fire didn't seem like the smartest combination in the world, but he couldn't keep back from the flame in Ana-Lucia's soul – she turned his thoughts to the romantic drivel he hadn't felt since Monica blushed into his life.
She'd thump him if she found out: Ana-Lucia wasn't your typical Mills and Boon heroine.
He kinda liked that about her.
Monica was the air he breathed and the water he drank and his entire world. She had been. Once upon a time.
In her own fairy tale, Ana-Lucia reigned the land with a painfully sharp tongue and eyes that always seemed to see too much.
He could never quite decide which was better.
"You still awake?" she hissed to him in the dead of the night.
He groaned, rolled over, mumbled, scratched his face, yawned and blinked before nodding. "Think so."
"Good. I'm bored. Let's go do something."
"Now?" His bleary eyes looked at the clock. He'd only been asleep for an hour, but Ana-Lucia's grin was blaring at him. The whites of her teeth could be seen in the half-darkness, while her eyes were like reflective fireflies. He groaned again, caving to her demands with less thought than ever.
"You got any plans on what we're gonna do, sunshine?" he asked as he found his clothes in the darkness.
He didn't have to look to know that she rolled her eyes at him. "No," she said as she moved in the darkness. "That's the whole point."
Kevin hoped that the lack of light would hide his confusion – some days, he just didn't get Ana-Lucia.
Two weeks later, she left him – Kevin couldn't say he was surprised.
Chalk and cheese; black and white; straight and round; happy and unhappy. They were always opposites. While they could compliment each other for awhile, eventually the sparks were going to ignite and they'd have a damn unhelpful bushfire on their hands.
Kevin lay on the white sheets with a creased smile on his face. The room was empty, the night was dark, he was alone.
And yet he was smiling – he'd finally reached his mythical happily ever after. No princess to save, no damsel to rescue, no sleeping beauty to revive. Just himself.
He spread out across the bed, limbs flailing to take up as much space as he could.
Maybe that was all he'd ever needed.