Sacrifice

Link could only shake his head. "If I knew what a nymphomaniac you were before I married you, I might have thought twice. Hell Cammy, aren't you tired?"

She looked out the window at the dark sky. "It's, what, One AM? Any other night I'd be wrist deep in someone's guts, and you'd be putting the fear of god into some punk right about now." She got a sly look in her eye then. "And I don't wanna hear any whining about my sex drive. Seriously, I didn't even get a chance to finish my cigarette back there. Don't make me hook you up to my polygraph... flatfoot."

Her husband snorted and practically leapt at her. "You need to work on your threats. They're not supposed to make me want to sacrifice the box springs."

With his mouth devouring hers in no time flat, Camila barely managed a gulp down a breath before she was scooped up in a pair of arms that could have doubled for a forklift, and then whisked up the stairs. Camila loved nearly everything about her life with Lincoln Winters, but, if she was being honest, it was moments like this that brought her to the stratosphere more than all the others. This physical connection, the juxtaposition of her husband's love and tenderness with his voracious hunger for her body. It lit her fuse every single time. Their animalistic-yet-soul-binding lovemaking was a wonderful microcosm of their entwined lives.

Link and Cammy riding the maelstrom together. Always.

__________

Camila had long tried to convince herself that the sounds of the neighbors getting home from work was a worthy alarm clock on their days off; the signal that the evening was upon them, and was theirs for the taking. Then, when she got out of bed, yawning and stretching and rubbing her eyes and fighting the urge to crawl right back in... she really doubled down on the self-deception.

It was wasn't the easiest thing in the world, even after all these years, she could admit that. She knew that people really weren't made to sleep the day away and stay up all night. Looking into the mirror while poking her face, she had to sigh. Ugh, I can see them. A few more crow's feet and the bags are making headway.

She was only thirty-five, not even middle-aged yet. Oh, she knew she was still attractive, and even if her Adonis of a husband couldn't keep his hands off her, the sad antics of the horndogs in the hospital would have been more than enough to drive the lesson home. Still, the small damages wrought by a living the life of a mushroom marched on unabated. She was aging quicker than she would have as a day-walker.

Camila, as if compelled, poked her head past the bathroom door and took in the sight of her softly snoring mate lying on their bed, then smiled fondly. Worth it. What am I going to do, work opposite hours as him? Not a fucking chance in this life.

And there was no way that Lincoln Winters, the city's favorite son, could exist in a time or place that kept him from doing the most good. After all, overnight was when the excitement happened, and when the wolves came out to hunt, the mastiff had to be ready. That meant she was ready. Ready to let the big animal back inside to the warmth, feed him, hold him close... pet him...

Oh yeah. Slamming car doors aren't what's waking him up today. Camila licked her lips while she maneuvered to the foot of the bed, then shimmied up under the covers. Maneuvering by memory and instinct, she put her favorite snack into her greedy mouth and proceeded to demonstrate, yet again, exactly why they were a perfect match for each other.

"Cammy... Jesus..." Link, absolutely awake then, had weaved the fingers of one hand through her thick hair to hold tight, while the other was rubbing its knuckles across her cheek, stroking softly. Camila hummed contentedly and picked up the pace. My warrior with the velvet touch.

With a groan, he gave her his seed, and she genuinely savored it; even though she was on birth-control, they always made sure that this was the only way she'd be taking it in. As she reluctantly began extricating herself from her man's lap, Camila felt another wistful pang. The night before had been one of those oh-so-rare times she was able to feel her husband's flesh within her without a damn sheath of latex in the way, and she knew a repeat performance was most likely not happening any time soon. It was for the best, though, and the rarity made the times it happened all the better.

After that performance, Link wasn't quite ready to get up, and he grinned at her like a kid on Christmas morning as he crooked a finger. Camila happily obliged and snuggled in close, luxuriating in the feel of his arm around her and his naked frame flush on hers. She couldn't help it then and began tracing the patterns of scars, the record of his wounds, across his broad chest... and poignant images of herself stitching up the majority of them traipsed through her head.

And I'll get the next. And the next. Always. Looking up through her disheveled hair, she raised her fingers to his face and once again touched the most important scar. Their first one.

"Link... after last night and what it was about, you know what I'm going to say." She stretched and planted a lingering kiss on the corner of his mouth, feeling it curl a bit under her lips.

"Yeah, but I'll say my thing first. You don't have to. You never have to."

God, she loved him so much. "I know, but I always, always want to." Camila propped herself up on an elbow so she could look him straight on, locking hazel and sky-blue gazes in bonds of steel. "Thank-you for saving me. Thank-you for sprinting across that crowded ER, hurdling over half a dozen chairs, and throwing yourself in front of the broken piece of glass in the hands of that psycho. The one that was a second away from ending the career of an out-of-her-depth intern." She nuzzled her nose into his neck. "That was a second away from breaking my parents' hearts. A second away from robbing me of a life with the other half of myself that I never knew I was missing."

Now that nuzzling nose was making a runny mess on his skin, but neither cared. "When they let me be the one to stitch your face, and you told me that it felt like an angel had just kissed you with her fingertips... Officer Winters, I was done. I was yours. Forever."

Link had a hitch in his voice. "Luckiest thing that ever happened to me is that the love of my life is a hopeless romantic... and a sucker for corny lines."

She laughed as she swung her leg up and over his waist. "Hero... I'm a sucker for anything you want to give me." She swiped at her eyes before leaning forward, and the rest of the evening—their morning—passed in the best way possible.

__________

"I know we don't have much time mom, sorry, but I can't exactly call you after I get home, can... yeah, we're not gonna be changing our schedules... okay, okay. No, you know I know you love..."

Camila rolled her eyes at the phone in her hand and fiddled with the edge of her husband's old T-shirt that she'd long ago appropriated. The one she wore under her scrubs as often as possible. She adored her mother, but lord was the woman a chatterbox. If she got five words in for every ten of her Madre's, she counted herself fortunate. Which meant that the sound of Link's boots clomping across the kitchen tiles was like the Hallelujah Chorus to her desperate ears.

"Mom, wanna say Hi to your favorite son-in-law?" Camila mouthed her apology to her husband, but still hit the speakerphone button as fast as the laws of physics allowed.

Link gave a half grin and shook his head good naturedly while he sat and began cinching up his bootlaces. "Hey mom, how's the party planning coming?"

Camila flushed at that, like she always did. Yeah, plenty of men called their mother-in-laws mom, but with Link, it wasn't just an honorific. In a very real way, Yesenia and Hector Alonso had become the parents he'd always dreamed of growing up in that damned orphanage. She knew because he'd told her once like he was confessing to stealing something from her. Her response to that had left him chafed, exhausted, and smiling hard enough to make his face sore.

"Hola, El Cid!" Yesenia, who'd been warm-but-pointed when talking to her daughter, now gushed like she'd been let backstage at a Richie Valens concert. "You and my brilliant child are both still coming, right? Hector might sit it out if you aren't there, you know, and his other children probably won't appreciate that. It's what you get for charming the old bandito so well."

Link gasped in mock outrage. "How can you ask that? I'd never miss my niece's... uh..." He looked panicked then. "Quincy? Crap, sorry, I..."

"Quinceanera." Yesenia wasn't offended in the slightest. "Hell, Maria might sit it out too if her beloved Tio Link isn't there. I have all the faith in the world of your intentions, but the world is terrible. Or at least that cesspool you call a city is. I know that, sometimes..." The woman got quiet for a second. "Lincoln, all kidding aside, never think you have to... that you owe us..."

"It's in only a week, mom, and I'm good at what I do. Don't worry, both me and the angel you gave to this world will be there." His nose crinkled with his wicked, exaggerated smirk at Camila, and she just shook her head, waiting for what she knew was coming.

"Angel! Mi hijo... love blinds you. It is very sweet, but you refuse to listen when I've told you over and over that my first daughter could argue the devil into begging for mercy."

"Thanks, mom. Love you too." Camila grumbled at the phone.

"Oh hush." Yesenia's tone dripped with affection, and she just kept going. "You know it's true. No, the angels will come from you, Cammy, when the pair of you finally give me the grandbabies I'm—"

Camila snatched up her phone and slammed her thumb on the button to silence her mother's thoughtless words, knowing it was already too late. As she put the horrid little rectangle back up to her ear, she watched Link freeze on his chair and squeeze his eyes shut. "Mom, sorry... we're both gonna be late for... yeah, it's fine. No, it is. Love you too, both of us. See you this weekend."

Putting the phone down, she watched her husband slowly lift his lids, and tried to head him off. "Love, she didn't mean that. She... she understands our... why we... you know. She just, she has daydreams sometimes and forgets..."

"I'm sorry, Cammy." Link stared at his feet, the bootlaces forgotten in his fingers. "Kids... I can't..." His big shoulders slumped then, and he finally looked up at her. "Do you regret it yet? Us doing everything humanly possible to keep it from happening?"

Camila was on her feet in a flash, and one more flash later she had his head in her arms. "Link, not for a second. No children is a decision we both made. Together, one-hundred percent. It's just not right to do it, not with..." She let that hang.

Not when there are so many monsters he has to fight. Not when any child we create could be taken from us in an instant when they come looking.

It was the dismal truth, but she just couldn't say it out loud. She'd said it once, they'd said it once, at the beginning of their life together, and that was enough. The understanding was in place, and voicing it again wouldn't to a damn thing to help either of them. No, every time she was left with that feeling of an unfilled void after lovemaking, every time she was denied the intimacy of her husband's unveiled flesh within her body... these were the statements. The renewals of their commitment to what was just. What was best for... for everyone.

Link rubbed a hand up and down her back for a few lingering seconds, then gathered himself and finished with his boots. Before he headed out the door, though, he gave her one of the most heartfelt looks she'd seen in a while. "I love you, Doctor Winters. Thank-you for who you are."

He was gone before she could respond, so, with itchy eyes, Camila walked into the living room, right to her favorite spot like she had a thousand time before; facing the wall with its series of hanging photographs, the joyful instances of their lives frozen in time so they could use them again-and-again to bolster their spirits.

Birthdays, holidays, the few rare vacations they were practically forced to take by their superiors... it was a timeline of happiness that she never got tired of seeing. One, though, stood out. It was her favorite, and she wasn't even in it. It was Link, looking both overjoyed and mortified, being nearly buried under an avalanche of ebullient elementary-schoolers. It'd been taken when he'd come back to visit them upon a request.

Request. What am I thinking? They begged to see him again.

Of course they did. He was the one who had kept a maniac's bullets from taking them out of this world. On an overtime shift, no less.

Camila rubbed the moisture on her cheeks, put her fingers on her lips, then placed the tips lightly on the glass protecting the picture. "Hero, you're responsible for more children being on Earth than anyone I know."

That night, Doctor Camila Winters saw some very depressing things in her place of work, but somehow she was able to walk out of the hospital as the first rays of dawn shined down with a smile on her face and a song on her lips.

__________

"Okay, so three more payments, and that's the car!" Camila pumped her fist after she clicked away their hard-earned money. Grinning ear-to-ear, she twirled her chair away from their computer, and waggled her eyebrows at Link, who was focusing on some paperwork of his own. "I think, probably, we can even knock out the student loans in a few years. Hell, at that point, we might as well buy some monocles and top hats and audition to be the new monopoly guy!"

"You'd have to shave your head." Link's eyes danced. "And grow a big, curly mustache. Only one of those is sexy, and I'm not saying which."

"I'll do one, then the other, and figure out the answer by how sore you make my pussy." Camila leaned back and parted her bare knees to show just how serious she totally was.

Link gave a hearty guffaw, but it was short lived. "Cammy, it really shouldn't be taking this long. I know I'm not pulling in what..." He stopped and changed tacks, waving a hand distantly to the house surrounding them. "Believe me, I know how crazy expensive it is to have a good place right in the city, and that it ain't Officer money that's keeping us afloat. I can do more overtime..."

Camila just stared at him for a good, long time, taking him all in. Officer. It said all it needed to say. Not Captain. Not Lieutenant. Not even Sergeant. Seventeen years on the force, and he was only making more than on his first day because of longevity and cost of living increases. Hell, he and Gary had come through the academy together, and the man was Police Commissioner.

In a fair world, Link would have had so many pay raises through merit, he'd be leaving her in the dust. Nope, this world had a Police Union, and unions meant contracts. Contracts that didn't allow for recognition of being fucking spectacular. Not monetarily, at least. So there it was, an income that was an insult.

Never mind that he could have run for mayor and won in a landslide. Or State Senate... or another kind of Senate... Lincoln Winters needed to be a beat cop, to be on the streets, so he'd stayed a beat cop.

So Camila laughed in his face before gathering his T-shirt in both hands and holding on tight. "Overtime! You get that filthy word right out of your mouth, mister! It's bad enough when they force you over... or you accidentally linger after your shift... yeah, don't try to deny it..."

She was trying to keep it together, but she wanted to scream. I need you next to me as much as possible, you lug. Please don't make me... She pressed her forehead to his. "What we have works. We're doing it, and we're fine. I don't begrudge it for an instant." Her eyes shined then. "Besides, the neighborhood grandmas bring us so much thank-you food, I don't remember the last time we had to go grocery shopping." Not much of an exaggeration, as the stacks of Tupperware piling up in their kitchen attested to. "And we eat for free pretty much anywhere in the city..."

Link suddenly grabbed her by the waist and pulled her into his lap, putting his sardonic smile right in her face. "But how can such a traditional woman respect her man when she's the bread winner?"

"It's a struggle, believe me." Camila nibbled on his earlobe as she rubbed her naked tits against his shirt. "If only you were... I dunno, rugged. Muscly." Camila began wriggling her wet, open mound against the growing length emerging from his loose boxers. "Big. I guess then I might get over... holy shit!"

Lifting her like a feather, Link moved his wife's rear upward for a heartbeat, then right down onto his slickened, turgid penis, spearing her colon handily, and Camila could only breathe out one thing before they started in on the best rut of the week.

"Fu... fuckin'... fuckin' backdoor... ninja..."

While her ass became a blur in his crotch, Link stuffed his face into her shoulder to keep his laughs under control.

__________

She saw Gary first. Camila immediately thought how weird that was, since his schedule didn't match hers in any way, shape, or form. He should have been asleep, but instead, her husband's best friend was staggering into her ER in a daze, and his hands were covered in blood. So, so weird.

Then she saw a stream of blue come in behind him, and her heart dropped to her toes.

"Cammy... god, I..." Once he spotted her, Gary came right to her, flanked by his people. By a lot of his people, all looking like they'd seen something absolutely...

"Gary. You're bleeding." Camila stared at his hands. Only at his hands. Her entire body vibrated with the sudden need to keep her eyes down when, in her peripheral vision, she caught sight of a stretcher being rushed past, one that was trailing even more blue in its wake. So much so, that she could hear the desk nurse trying with firm understanding to tell them that it was too much. That some had to leave to make room.

"Not... not mine." Gary swallowed, but didn't pull his hands away from her. Instead, he turned them so he was holding hers. "Cammy, there was a hostage situation. He shouldn't have... it wasn't his responsibility, but... but everyone just... just looked to him..." He closed his eyes. "He got the fucker, but..."

Camila turned on her heel as she turned on her brain, then made a beeline right for the retreating stretcher. Gary put a hand on her shoulder as if to hold her back, then babbled something about her not being prepared, and letting someone else, someone detached, handle it.

"I put him back together, Garrison Dowd." She would have been spitting in his face if she'd bothered to turn it towards him more. "That's will always be the deal."

Gary's hand was yanked away like it'd been scorched, and Camila couldn't have cared less. Her purpose was inexorably pulling her down that hall, its hooks deep in her flesh.

__________

"Oh my god, oh god... I'm so sorry Tio Link!" Maria pulled her arms from around her uncle's neck, awkwardly tried to pat him on the shoulder, realized what she looked like, and just stepped away, eyes rolling as they were aimed everywhere but at the big man struggling to get agonized breathing under control.

"No, honey, you got nothing to be sorry for." Link tried to laugh, but stopped himself when the movement just birthed more tics of pain from him. "I should apologize. I promised I'd be at your... Quinceanera." He grinned, proud of himself for getting it right, but it was fleeting. "Wish like hell I'd been there. Now you gotta come here so I get to see you, and I don't—"