**This is inspired by the song Don't Turn Around by Ace of Base. Don't Turn Around by Elisa P. Black Nick's hands were unconsciously playing with an antique statuette as he sat on the edge of the sofa, and a frown pulled at his desperate smile. He had her very worried. "What is it? What's going on?" He cleared his throat. "Umm, Natalie...," he began. Suddenly, his head shot up. The panic was plain on his frighteningly pale face. Natalie's head swiveled in all directions but she did not catch sight of the menacing presence she could also feel. "My God, Nick. What is it?" Just as suddenly, the presence turned off like a faucet. She let out the breath she found herself holding as Nick breathed raggedly. He then seemed to gather his strength and finally blurted out what he had to say. "Natalie, I have to leave." There was a finality to it. Swiftly, he replaced the statuette, got up, and headed for the door. It sank into Nat's mind. She jumped up and grabbed his arm, surprised when she spun him around easily. Apparently, he was hesitating to leave. "What do you mean, leave?" she asked. "You mean _forever_?" He refused to meet her eyes. OK, fine. But he had to tell her something, anything more. "Where are you going? Why are you leaving?" He gulped and pulled away. She gasped. "Nick!" she called after him as he walked away into the hall. She willed herself not to cry, not to show how badly this was affecting her. He stood very still and appeared to be warring with himself. Good, he deserved it to be pulling a stunt like this. Then slowly, with a look of self-hatred--God, how she hated that look--he turned to face her as if he couldn't resist one last look. They stared at each other for a few seconds. Then he turned away very deliberately. "Say goodbye to Schank for me, will you?" Even though she knew she shouldn't, she couldn't resist putting in one last thing as he walked away. "You can't do this to me, Nick. You can't just waltz into my life one day and waltz out the next." Then shaking her head, coldly continued. "Go ahead, leave. If that's what you want." He glanced back with a pained look on his face. A whispered goodbye, and he was gone. She wished he would turn around and come back, but knew he wouldn't. It had to have been something important to make him want to leave in the first place. Something most likely related to herself. Just as well he didn't turn back; she was crying. Crying harder than she'd ever done before. And no wonder, he was her life. Her life had just walked out and she didn't have anything to be strong for now and so she cried. A door slammed shut somewhere at the other end of the hall, reminding her of her surroundings. She brushed away some tears with a damp sleeve and headed back into her apartment. She looked around miserably. No, this wouldn't do. Her best and worst memories were here, in this dull, empty place. She had to compose herself with the professionalism that had become a habit to her and leave. Yet she stayed rooted to the spot where she'd had the best of memories from that night before Valentine's Day. He'd been so desperate to make her forget that she hadn't had the heart to tell him that she couldn't forget, not something like that. The memory had sustained her, but what was it worth now? The look that had been in his beautiful eyes, his arms wrapped tightly around her, a silent message that he'd never give up hope, never let go. Well, he'd let go. She couldn't blame him. No, it had to be someone else's doing, someone like LaCroix. And she couldn't do anything and Nick couldn't do anything, so she might as well get on with her life. That's what Nick wanted. Yeah, right, how was she supposed to do that? All she could manage to do was whisper, "I love you, Nick." The silence in the apartment was heavy, almost stifling. She had to get out. She had to find Nick and tell him how much she loved him, tell him not to go. But the thought seemed oddly offensive. Before she could think of why, there was a knock on the door. Nick? She dared not hope. *** He wanted so much to turn around and go back to the life he'd found so full of hope. But that would not only cost him his pride but also Nat's life. He'd never thought it would come to this, leaving Natalie. LaCroix must have gotten desperate, damn him. Either that or LaCroix was betting on this being more torturous for him. It would be but even then Natalie would still be alive, his hope would still be alive. That was enough, just barely. Oh, god, he even missed Schanke. But he shouldn't think about it. LaCroix was nearby and could no doubt sense everything. But he could he turn off the love? *** She hurriedly splashed some water on her face and rushed to answer the door. It was Schanke. She couldn't help feeling a little disappointed. He started to exclaim, "Where's N-?" Then he saw her face. "What happened?" She calmed herself; keeping the tears out of her voice as she said, "He's gone." "He what?!" Man, oh, man, he left without saying goodbye!" "He told me to say goodbye to you for him. She succeeded in keeping her voice emotionless. "Oh, man, he left me with the Miller case and I have no clue what to do and the Captain's gonna kill me..." He stormed around the apartment, completely ignorant to Natalie's pained expression. The End