A/N: Just so there isn't any confusion, the first paragraph is from a part of the story that comes later. Read on, I promise it will all be clear later on.

This first chapter is told from Alex's POV, the next on will be Bobby's and they continue to alternate.

During this story I have followed the correct order of episodes starting with In The Wee Small Hours and ending in the middle of Slither. However, I have taken some liberty with the time line. I have also always assumed that we, as the audience, have never been privileged to see every single case that crosses the desk of Deakins or his detectives so one of the cases they work on is my own invention. It is nothing special as would be fitting of the cases that we are not privy to but I wanted to show something that further demonstrated my take on our hero's personality.

Everything I learned about the Romanovas and Russian Literature, I owe to Wikipedia.

Please read, review and enjoy!

Chapter 1Lock Down and Vodka

On the evening in question, Alex checked her reflection in the hall mirror as she went to the door to let Dante in. She was wearing her new Jean Paul Gaultier dress. It was by far the sexiest thing she had ever owned, except for maybe the leather mini she had worn for good luck during her days in vice. The dress was black with patches of fishnet strategically placed at the sleeves and up the side panels. She had stockings to match with sheer panels running up the front of the legs. Alex had chosen a pair of wine colored strappy heels to complete the outfit. Her hair was swept up off her face by a small gold clip. She knew she looked good. She also knew she was wasting it on the wrong man.

*****************************

She had met Dante the evening after her disastrous testimony in the Judge Garret trial for the murder of Bethany Lunden. She had decided to stop in at Lock Down, the local cop bar around the corner from One PP. She was angry, still shaking, in fact, and she was tired but knew she wasn't ready for the long drive home. She wasn't ready to unlock the door to the empty house that she used to share with her dead husband.

She was sitting at the bar, talking with the bartender and owner of the place, Albert Roth. He had been pouring drinks there since her Dad was a rookie cop. Albert had pictures of himself behind the bar shaking hands with each Chief of Detectives and Police Commissioner the city had seen since the bar had opened. He had been a handsome devil back in the day, Alex thought.

"Does your daddy know your in here, Alexandra?" The old man asked.

"No, and your not going to tell him either," she waved a playful finger under the man's nose and then motioned for him to refill her glass.

"Where's your partner tonight?" He asked, pouring her another martini.

Good question, Alex thought. At the courthouse, Bobby had acted like everything was fine, like he forgave her but how could he when she couldn't forgive herself? She had hurt him, unintentionally, but she had. Oh God, what must it have been like for him to sit in that courtroom and listen to that idiotic defense attorney assassinate his character like that and then hear that she had tried to dispose of him five years ago? Once she had withdrawn the letter, she hadn't given it another thought. She was a cop's daughter though, she should have known that nothing put in writing with the NYPD ever disappears, it just sits in a folder or file waiting to come to light again someday.

The simple truth was that Bobby had come to mean too much to her. She had quickly learned that he was a first rate detective and that together they made a formidable team. She knew him so well now. Hell, that happened in every partnership and marriage. When you spent anywhere from 8 to 14 hours a day with someone, that person gets to see you at your best and your worst. You get to know each other's history, each other's stories, you even got to know each other's jokes. Bobby always got her coffee perfect and she always knew instinctively what he would order when they went out to eat. Working with him was a source of joy and pride for her. She was honest though, honest enough to admit to herself that not being able to be anything more to Bobby than a partner was beginning to suck the life out of her existence.

"You look as if someone has kicked your dog," said a well timbered voice.

Alex looked up from where she had been studying the wood pattern of the bar and saw a tall, trim nice-looking guy who had just sat down at the bar one stool over from her.

He's not as tall as Goren, she thought. That's not a bad thing. Doesn't your neck ever get tired, Eames, said another voice in her head. "Yeah, I think he got kicked down the stairs, off the curb and over the bump in the road."

"That bad, huh?" The guy moved over one stool and put his hand out to shake hers. "I'm Dante, silly name I know but my mother was in love with Italy the summer I was conceived."

"Alex," she shook his hand and noticed that the man shook hers just right. Not too hard, not too soft, not too long or short. There was no sly caress as he released her hand.

"As in Alexandra?" She nodded. "That is a coincidence."

"Why, is that your wife's name?" Alex ask her voice dripping sarcasm.

"No," he laughed, "but I realize how it might sound that way. No, I'm a professor of Russian Literature at NYU. I'm writing a book about Alexandra Feodorovna the Russian Tsaritsa married to the last Tsar Nicholas II. " He looked pointedly at her, "and I'm not married."

Alex raised her eyebrows. "Well that is a coincidence."

"Maybe its also serendipitous. May I buy you another drink?"

She was a detective and she knew all the signs to look for: tan line on his finger, mismatched buttons sewn onto his shirt, baby spit up on his shoulder. Alex saw none of these signs on this guy. He was cute with the kind of wavy brown hair that women liked to run their fingers through. The glasses he wore were stylish and suited his face, making him look, studious and intellectual. He had on what appeared to be the standard academics uniform of a tan jacket with leather pads at the elbow and a rust colored shirt underneath. His shoes were a bit worn. Everything looked to be in order with what he had said of himself so far, no warning bells. Alex silently dipped her head toward her drink acquiescently.

They got a booth in the back and spent an hour or so talking to one another. Dante had been duly impressed when she told him what she did for a living but did not seem either overly interested nor did he seem intimidated by it. When Alex finally caught sight of the time, he had asked for her number and she gave it to him.

She drove home that night, keeping an eye out for anyone following her and replayed the evening in her mind. She was glad she gave Dante her number, maybe it was time she took her life in a new direction.

**************************

A few days later, Alex arrived early for once. She had made it to Starbucks and had pick up their usual coffees and she also got an assortment of muffins and pastries. As she set the food down on her desk, she realized how blatantly obvious she was being, trying to bribe her partner with food. Things still felt strained between them. She was trying to fix that. She sat down and ran her fingers through her hair in agitation.

"Headache?" said a familiar voice.

She jumped, startled and looked up see the same warm brown eyes she had been looking at across her desk for the last five years. "No, I'm alright. I brought the works from Starbucks." She set Bobby's cup down in front of him and rattled the contents of the bag.

"Great, I didn't have time to stop this morning."

Alex observed him under her lashes as she set the baked goods out on the desk. He looked good. The suit he wore was one of her favorites, it was the same charcoal grey as his hair, impeccably tailored, he looked like he had been poured into it. God what am I thinking? Didn't I just meet a great guy the other night? Didn't I just decide to try to let go a little and explore other options?

"Hey, you two I've got a live one for you." Deakins called out from his office. Once the two detectives had taken their seats, the Captain gave them the details of their new case.

"So, in a nut shell, the mayor's brother was seen entering the building where they were holding illegal dog fights but no body has seen or heard from him since."

"Maybe he got rabies and died." Alex said through the side of her mouth, the distaste she had for the brother's activities written clearly on her features.

"Do we know if he has a gambling problem?" Bobby asked.

"The only thing I do know is that the mayor has always had "handlers" attached to the guy" Deakins raised the two fingers of each hand in the air to put the word in quotations. "He obviously must have some kind of problem if the mayor feels he needs to be babysat twenty four seven."

Bobby nodded his understanding and the two left the office to start their case.

They spent the morning looking over the building where Alan Pemberton had last been seen. It was an abandon clothing factory. There were clues galore to the type of activities that had taken place there the night before but no sign of Pemberton. Next they met with the mayor, the assistant mayor, the mayor's mother and the man in charge of escorting Alan Pemberton, Rudy Guisseppe.

They then grabbed some sandwiches and came back to One PP to check the computer for likely suspects that had priors in dog fighting. There were flowers sitting on Alex's desk when they arrived. The bouquet was a tasteful arrangement for December of miniature red roses with white chrysanthemums decorated with sprigs of holly and mistletoe. Alex felt the color begin to rise to her face. She sat down and opened the card.

To my lovely Tsaritsa,

I enjoyed our time together and was hoping you might be free to have dinner with me. I want to take you to my favorite little Russian restaurant over in Brooklyn. They know me there so I don't need reservations, we can just go whenever you are free.

With hope,

Dante

Alex was flustered. Until she had gone to sleep that night, she had thought of nothing but Dante, playing their conversation over in her mind. Since then, however, she had hardly spared him a thought. She glanced over at Bobby who was pointedly chewing through both his sandwich and the report he was reading. He was purposely ignoring her. Any other time, all she had to do was keep her gaze on him to capture his attention.

Alex put the card away in her purse and moved the flowers to the right of her Santa cup. The flowers at least reminded her that the Holiday season was fast approaching and she hadn't bought a single gift yet.

She decided to wait till later to call Dante, hoping she would find a moment alone to do so. She clicked onto her computer and began to pull up rap sheets for the suspects they wanted to question.

They made their inquiries among a few of the more likely degenerates who operated dog fights in the city but no one knew anything, naturally.

They were due to meet Rudy Guisseppe at Pemberton's apartment to check for clues to the man's whereabouts. The apartment building was renovated and trendy but the inside of Pemberton's place was a different story. It was very messy. "Is this normally the way the place looks?" Bobby asked Guisseppe, picking up a pair of boxers off the kitchen floor.

"Yeah, he ain't one for neatness."

"Can you tell me why the family hired you?"

Guisseppe looked uncomfortable. "I told you before, I drive him around, make sure he goes where he supposed to, things like that."

"And is there a reason that Mr. Pemberton isn't capable of doing these things for himself?" Detective Goren leaned over to catch the older man's eyes.

"Well, Alan, he's a bit, you know, slow." The man started to walk away but Alex stepped up to block his progress. Bobby placed one large hand on the man's shoulder and turned him around to face him.

"You mean, like he has a learning disability, maybe he's handicapped, mentally?"

"Yeah, like that, only the mayor, he doesn't like anyone to know. He's afraid people will try to use Alan against him."

"Has someone used Alan before?" Alex asked

"Yeah, one time this nut case that had a beef against the mayor had lured the poor guy away and put him on the ferry to Staten Island and left him there. The nut case then made a ransom demand. Security guards called wantin to know what to do with Alan just as the mayor was reading the ransom note."

"All's well that ends well, I guess." Alex said, looking to her partner for corroboration but Bobby was busy pinching his bottom lip with a finger and his thumb.

"And it wasn't you who drove him to the dog fight?" Bobby asked

"No, I had a doctors' appointment for my wife, I took the day off. Stephens

drove him and dropped him off like an idiot."

The detectives looked around the apartment for any tell tale sign of where the occupant might be now and came up empty.

****************************

The lights of the restaurant were low and inviting. The food was delicious and the service was fun and friendly. Alex looked across at her companion. He was wearing a dark suit with a light blue shirt this evening. She thought he looked even better tonight than he had at the bar. Dante was definitely in his element, ordering in Russian and telling her delightful tales about each dish they sampled. He looked more relaxed and open or maybe that was the Russian Vodka they were imbibing in.

Afterwards, he walked her to her car. It had been a long time since Alex had stood awkwardly across from a date while that invisible meter bounced back and forth between kiss him or not. She finally said to hell with it and step up purposefully and instigated things herself.

The kiss lacked finesse. I must be rustier than I thought, but Dante was apparently not finished and wrapped her in his arms to continue. When they broke apart Alex agreed to see him again but she was ready to go home.

As she lay in bed that night, she thought about the kiss and wondered whether it was fair to compare a real kiss to the fantasy one she had been playing in her head for years now.