Disclaimer: I do not own Judging Amy, nor am I affilliated with any of its producers, writers, or actors. I own only the wish that this great show would continue.

Red or black?

The pretty, slim Judge-turned-senatorial candidate cupped her chin in her hands and twirled her curly, brunette hair around several fingers as she surveyed the two dresses resting on the bed next to her. She'd decided against the blue silk one (it reminded her of ex fiancé Stu Collin's eyes and, besides, it washed her out), the pink chiffon number (she knew her court clerk Donna meant well, but really – pink!), and the army green ensemble (she was actually hoping to WIN the election here…).

Maxine, her strong, wonderfully opinionated mother had, of course, told her time and time again, "Amy, you could wear a paper bag and you'd look wonderful. Besides, no one's going to care what you wear as long as your teeth are clean and you don't drink too much."

She smiled to herself as she thought of this advice. Simple and sweet. Just like the advice Ma had given her before taking the bench for the very first time. Taking the bench for the very first time! Why, it felt like yesterday, but, as she looked out the hotel window directly onto downtown D.C., Amy realized how long ago that was. She'd come so far and learned so much since that day six years ago when she was sworn in as a Superior Court Judge of Connecticut. She'd learned about her job and the juvenile justice system, about being a mom, about love. Now that was one thing she never seemed to get quite right. Sure, she'd dated. And sure, she'd thought she'd found the right man many times.

There was, in the words of Ma, "The too old one, the too young one, the too sensitive one, the too smart one, the too taken one".

Amy knew Maxine was referring to Barry, the old Judge whose dull eyes had always left her feeling somewhat empty. And Rob, the Karate teacher whose heart she broke again and again while she searched for something in him that wasn't there. And Tom, the handsome lawyer who traded Amy for his ex-wife.

But after those, Amy had been sure she'd found love in Stuart Collins. The young lawyer from Harvard who had always run in Amy's circles, but whom she refused to acknowledge until he forced her to. They were engaged, and got all the way to the altar before Amy put her finger on what was wrong with him.

Then, there was David. Gorgeous, sweet, sensitive, intelligent David. He'd charmed her from the beginning with his rugged good looks and seeming carefree nature. She'd made a fool out of herself in her attempt to make him want her, and, in a moment she wasn't so proud of, didn't agree to break up with him when he tried to end the relationship. But their relationship had soon grown comfortable and loving – after Amy became pregnant with his child they'd even gone house hunting together and got engaged. But, with the painful miscarriage that followed, the realization that something was not right and had not been right with their relationship all along came to both Amy and David and the relationship was cut short.

The final relationship saga had occurred only months before. So, now, why was she feeling happier and more excited than she had in years? Why were the butterflies in her stomach increasing as she flew about her hotel room getting ready? Why was she so happy?

Amy knew the answer. It was Bruce.

Her handsome court services officer with whom she'd always felt the most comfortable was going to be there tonight. The man on whose shoulder she'd cried after her many break-ups. The man who was instinctively protective of her and instinctively jealous of any other men in her life, though he hated to admit it. The man in whom she could confide her deepest secrets and fears and hopes – and had, many times. There had always been an undeniable chemistry between them. They'd both tried to write it off, knowing full well that a relationship between the two of them – a judge and her court services officer, a white woman and a black man, or simply between two best friends – could never work. Or maybe it was the fact that the consequences of a relationship between them would put both their jobs in jeopardy, as they came to realize during Amy's first year as a judge when allegations of impropriety between them arose and threatened their reputations and positions in the legal system. Of course, neither had ever spoken of a possible relationship and both acted as though no such sexual tension existed. But every so often, it would come to the surface:

Amy's first, "I need you" to Bruce followed by many, many more in years to come. The wonderful, flirty bantering ("Bruce, have you always looked this good or have I been in the basement too long!"). The first time Bruce called her 'Amy' rather than Judge Gray, the same night that a tired, scared Amy had rested her head on Bruce's chest in her chambers as he held her shoulders. Their first hug, after Amy had broken up with Barry because he wouldn't fly to Spain with her spur of the moment, and Bruce's utterly perfect response to the question Amy posed while in his arms that made it clear to her, whether she wanted to except it or not, that Bruce was the one,

"What would you say if I told you I had two tickets to Spain?"

"When do we leave?"

The time in the cafeteria right after her almost-wedding to Stu when Bruce tried to tell Amy that his reason for not attending her wedding was that he was in love with her: she'd known from the moment the conversation started that's what he would say, and she could have killed Donna for interrupting and ruining everything…Bruce's showing up after Maxine's fiancé Jared's death and hugging her as she cried for the first time since news of the death in his arms. The night at the bar when Amy stood David up (though she couldn't put her finger on why, at the time) and drank and laughed with Bruce well into the night. The many dreams she'd had about the two of them making out and dancing. And, of course, the wonderfully passionate kiss they shared in Amy's apartment after years of waiting.

The images flew in her head and left it spinning, as she pushed aside the two dresses to lie on the bed.

That's what this was really about, wasn't it? She was a judge, or, she used to be. She was supposed to be an intellectual, a strict law-abiding and enforcing being who didn't care what she looked like. In the back of her mind, she'd been wondering why choosing this dress was such an issue. Now it hit her. Perhaps she'd known all along. It was the same answer for just about everything. It was Bruce.

Amy glanced over at the small digital clock on the hotel nightstand. 5:45 it read. Not much time left to get ready. As if on cue, a sharp ring interrupted the silent room. Ma…..

"Honey, you only have an hour left. Now, you need to have your speech ready and remember that list of names we need to memorize in the limo over. Oh, and be sure to pull your hair out of your face…."

"Ma! Don't worry, I'll be ready. Why are you so worried about tonight? Everything's going to be fine. You just worry about getting yourself ready. I love you, see you in the lobby in a bit," soothed Amy as she silently laughed at her mom's unusually anxious demeanor.

Red or black? Red or black? She was not the least bit surprised to find herself trying to remember which color Bruce liked best, but she quickly shut the thought out of her mind. What was she thinking? She needed to be focused on her career and on the campaign, not on Bruce! Besides, there would never be anything between he and she. There couldn't be. Could there?

Red reminded her of Spain. She'd never been before, but she'd always envisioned it to be a beautiful, dusty country of villas and music and dancing. Yes, red reminded her of Spain. And Spain reminded her of Bruce. This time, she didn't stop her mind from wandering. She slipped the silky red fabric over her porcelain skin and tossed her brown ringlets as she gazed in the mirror and dreamed about the man she would probably never have.

"Red it is, then."