A/N: Spoilers for Season 4 in case you haven't seen it yet (in this instance, go and watch it immediately, it is BRILLIANT). This story picks up right after the ending of 4x04 'Lights of Winter' when Norma and Alex come home to find the house trashed, but things take a different turn here. It's so interesting to watch how these guarded characters that have so many secrets slowly but surely open up to each other. (And believe it or not, but the idea for this story popped up in my head before I saw the following episode and how Romero reacted to what had happened.)

Disclaimer: Bates Motel and its characters belong to A&E. No copyright infringement intended. This is just for fun.

"What are you doing?"

Norma's voice startles him; Alex didn't hear her coming down the stairs. She leans against the door frame, a seemingly relaxed posture albeit she is anything but, watching him alertly despite the fact that she must have just woken up and still be sleepy. Her blue robe and tousled hair remind him of an evening that feels like a lifetime ago when he was standing on her front porch with his deputy, questioning her.

They've come a long way from sheriff and suspect to husband and wife. That's what they are to each other, at least on paper. Well, they consummated their marriage, but he has no idea what that means in the big picture. Normal rules don't apply when you are living in White Pine Bay. By any account. Let alone when you're married to Norma Bates.

"Cleaning up a bit. I couldn't sleep."

Alex puts the vase that he picked up from the floor on a chest of drawers, a glance at the clock telling him that it's 3 AM. The darkest hour of the night. When they came home from the Winter Lights Festival to find the house trashed, he was quick to assure Norma that she shouldn't worry, that he would take care of the situation, as always. These are their roles. She seems to be in constant danger and he is her protector.

So he made sure that doors and windows were locked and convinced her to leave the mess as it was and go to bed. Since there was no immediate threat anymore, he would handle the rest in the morning. It surprised him how easily Norma gave in. Neither of them were in the mood anymore to take their passionate kissing any further, but there was no doubt that she wanted him to sleep in her bed, anyway, if only to hold her as she fell asleep within minutes, the events of the last days taking a toll on her.

She is exhausted. They both are. He didn't fall asleep, though, not when he has a queasy feeling about what happened. Alex won't report it the next morning, can't risk that Rebecca's fingerprints might be taken as evidence. He is certain that she is responsible for the havoc. As certain as one can be in a world full of what ifs. He assumes Rebecca was searching for the second key to get access to Bob Paris' money. Trashing the house of her rival simply was a welcome bonus.

He misjudged her, underestimated her. They had a fling. It was a convenient arrangement to fulfill physical needs, nothing serious. But when he saw her approach Norma at the festival, he realized she was up to something. In the end, everything is about sex or money, and in this case, it's about both. The trail of the money will lead any halfway decent investigator to the sex, or vice versa, and the DEA is already sniffing around. Alex made sure that no one will find Bob Paris' body. However, even the best get caught sometimes. Any connection between him and Rebecca that goes beyond her being his bank manager entails that risk.

Therefore he has to ensure that this is not going to happen. No report, no fingerprints, no connection. Not now. Not when his life has taken a turn that he could have never imagined a week ago. Not when he finally has what he has been longing for – her. Alex has no illusions regarding their relationship. He has gotten enmeshed in it head over heels. Norma is his weakness; he has stopped to analyze, let alone try to prevent, what is going on, what he is willing to do for her whereas she…

His inner voice keeps nagging him that this is, in fact, only about his insurance, that he is merely a pawn in her game. In a way, it is the harsh truth. Norma never would have married him if it hadn't been necessary to help her son. But there are two sides to every question. One thing led to another and here they are. I'm sure I wanna do this, right now. Maybe they are on the same page now. All he needs is more time.

"Don't you have to wait until they checked for fingerprints?" Norma's voice disturbs his train of thoughts and brings him back to the here and now. She eyes him suspiciously. He rebuked her for cleaning up the motel room of a potential suspect once; obviously she hasn't forgotten that.

"That won't be necessary."

"It won't?" Norma straightens herself, the last traces of sleep gone by now. "Why not?"

"I'll handle it, okay? Just let me handle it."

A pause. Then. "You know who did this." Not a question, a statement. Something changes in the way she looks at him. He can practically see her connecting the dots. "Did you actually hide money in my basement? Is that what whoever did this was looking for?" As usual, she doesn't hesitate to bring up a painful subject.

"Norma..." It's a warning. Alex is neither ready nor willing to have this conversation with her right now.

"Who was it? Who trashed my house?" Her voice is sharp, demanding. Norma won't let it go until he gives her an answer or finds a way to stop her; he knows as much. "This is my house. I have a right to know." And then, as an afterthought, she comes back at him, quoting what he said to her after the wedding ceremony when she was hesitant about letting him move in. "I let you move in with me. Don't make me regret doing this."

Her insistence was to be expected; his anger takes him by surprise. Yes, it's her house, but even if he just moved in, it feels like his house too, already, her not so subtle reminder a verbal slap in the face. Norma's words shouldn't enrage him the way they do. Alex can't help it though. She slept with him, whispered his name over and over as they were undressing one another until it was skin to skin. And here she is, drawing a line between their lives that he believed was no longer there.

Alex takes a step forward, closer to her. "Just let it go."

If she heard the barely suppressed fury in his voice, Norma hides it well. "No." Holding his gaze. Unimpressed, calm, bordering on indifferent. At least that's how she delivers it, as effortlessly as anything. Norma Bates knows how to stand her ground during an argument.

She pushes herself away from the door frame so that her body brushes his. A strand of her hair tickles his nose; a whiff of her perfume reaches his nostrils, teasing him. Norma tilts her head back, exposing the soft skin of her neck as if she was an easy prey. It has the desired effect. Alex can't help it, his eyes wandering off course by their own accord. Her lips, her cleavage. She knows he is under her spell. Especially now that he knows what it feels like to actually touch her. Don't play with me. At this very moment she is about to.

"What is going on, Alex?" As opposed to her earlier demands, Norma's voice is seductive, a classic manipulator.

Alex knows that Norma's childhood as well as her former marriages were problematic at best; this is learned behavior to get what she wants or simply to survive. The awareness should make it easier for him to calm down, but it doesn't. Hasn't he done anything humanly possible for her? So why can't she back off for once? It's not even that he doesn't want her to know. He just wants her to accept that it's his choice what he tells her at any given time. Alex wants Norma to trust him. Needs her to because that is the basis of their relationship. Mutual trust in a world full of betrayal. She says she does, and yet, it feels as if he has to earn her trust every time anew.

Norma's breath caresses his face; her hands find their way under his shirt. She might try to manipulate him, but her fitful breathing gives away that she is not unaffected by their closeness, not at all. Alex feels the heat of her body, separated from his only by her robe and the black, silk night chemise she is wearing underneath, as he is all too well aware. He grabs her wrists to stop her from touching him, registering the surprise on her face that her approach didn't work, followed by anger, quick and heated. Anger and arousal are a dangerous mixture, for both of them.

"Stop it." He is the sheriff; this is an order.

"Fine." Norma tears herself away from him and turns around, about to leave.

She doesn't come far. He catches up with her, grabbing her shoulders to hold her back.

"Don't do that, Norma."

"Do what? I'm doing nothing. You're the one who is keeping secrets."

The urge to demonstrate his physical dominance and press her against the door frame is overwhelming, only the been-there-done-that déjà-vu keeping him from doing it. His fingers stretch, releasing her shoulders, but Alex is unable to let go of her, his hands tracing Norma's arms until they pause at the ribbon that is tied around her waist and that holds her robe together.

"You have to trust me."

Norma's facial expression changes when he says trust me, as if the words are able to erase her anger because she empathizes with him about his desperate need to be certain of her trust. Being able to trust other people is both of their Achilles' heel. She gives him a quiet smile, an olive branch. "I do."

Her hands cover his, helping him undo the ribbon of her robe. For someone else this might be an irritating mood swing. For Norma, it's her default setting, her moods like a pendulum, about to change any second. The moment her robe comes undone, Alex's hands reach for her hips. It's always like that. He cannot not touch her whenever they are close.

She is curvy in the right places, but Alex was surprised how fragile she felt in his arms when they made love for the first time. Soft skin, small-boned, nothing like the woman who is able to make a hell of a scene as he knows only too well from own experience. It's all about posture. Norma Bates is a chin up kind of woman, even or especially when the water is up to her neck. He still can't believe that moments like these are real, that she more and more lets her guard down when she is with him.

The fabric of her night chemise is warm due to her bodily warmth. His fingers grab a handful of silk, pulling it up until he feels skin and the lace of her panties. She leans forward to kiss him. They only slept together once so far, but he could tell that, albeit Norma obviously likes sex, she rather seemed to be used to give men what they wanted and hadn't often been on the receiving end of someone unselfishly pleasuring her. Alex plans to change that, already started the night before by paying close attention to her reactions as he does now. He wants to make it about what she wants and not about what she thinks he needs. Essentially those are the same things, anyway.

One hand playfully traces the hem of her panties as his other hand slips to her neck, his thumb brushing her lips when they have to interrupt their kiss to take breath. Norma's pupils are fully dilated by now, her arousal evident. Yes, she definitely likes that.

He doesn't end up pressing her against the door frame but the wall when she eventually slips off her panties and he lifts her up. Alex could have carried her upstairs again, but this property really has too many stairs. In light of nightly house searches, the secrets he has to keep, and their arguments, let alone their passionate lovemaking that seems to become a daily habit he has to start saving energy.

Only when they are lying in bed together later, on the brink of sleep, he hears her mumble, "You have to trust me too, Alex." Norma's voice trails off, followed by deep breaths that tell him she has fallen asleep.

She is still hurt, and possibly angry, that he didn't tell her what is going on. And she is right. Save that it has nothing to do with him not trusting her. Quite the opposite. His first and foremost priority, though, is to protect her. Norma has enough of a burden to carry as it is.

Alex remembers her phone call only a few nights ago. Her words that sounded like a goodbye just in case, her strained voice the one of a woman trying to come to terms with something way beyond her grasp, something that made her believe she was about to die. He hasn't told her, but he expected to find her dead when he arrived that night. The thought chokes him, the memories coming back to haunt him.

Norma doesn't know he found a gun and scissors in the basement when he was looking for a place to hide the money. It gave him a chill to see the weapons lie there almost peacefully side by side. He still doesn't know what exactly happened that night between Norman and Norma although her phone call and his finding give him a pretty good idea. It's an ugly scenario that plays out in his head. One that makes him wonder how she managed to survive. He doesn't dare to imagine what a close call it must have been. By now, Alex is convinced that he arrived right on time; otherwise he wouldn't be able to hold her in his arms.

Her head rests on his chest, a comfortable weight. "I do," Alex whispers, responding to Norma's drowsy plea to trust her even though she doesn't hear him.

There is so much they haven't told each other as yet, so many secrets. They both led troubled lives before. A past that bleeds into their present. Just because they are together now and this fake marriage starts to feel more real than anything else in his life doesn't mean that they are able to talk about everything at a moment's notice. They have earned each other's trust. Now they have to learn how to live up to it.

It's not forever. He said that to her right after they had married. It was a deliberate snide remark because he was so happy and she was so reluctant to accommodate. If Alex had been honest with himself, he would have discerned the lie, of course. Because it is. Forever. There is no chance in hell that he will allow life to take Norma away from him. The rest will be seen. Rome wasn't built in a day either.

She snuggles into him in her sleep as he softly kisses her hair. There is dirty money hidden in the basement, the living room is still a mess, and the fingerprints on the gun most likely belong to his stepson. But here they are, together, and they have all the time in the world to put things right.

A/N: As to the ending of this story: Yes, I know they don't have all the time in the world. So it's your choice. Consider this an alternate universe or feel the lump in your throat due to the bittersweet overtone of impending doom. Thanks for reading, either way.