Disclaimer:  I don't own Judging Amy or its characters.

Author:  CandyRain aka chocolatekisses

Summary:  Bramy.  What if Amy's criminal court appointment had meant transferring to Boston?  Amy's POV.

A.N.  This takes place somewhere between the end of Season 4 and the beginning of Season 5.

I'm standing behind my desk with my back to the door, taking one last look around.  'I made the right decision,' I tell myself for the umpteenth time.  I hear footsteps and turn around. Bruce is standing at my door.

            He steps in and closes the door, while I make my way around to the front of my desk and perch on the edge.  I cross my arms and wait.  "I just came to say good-bye," he says sticking his hands in his pockets.

            I can't believe what I'm hearing.  I force myself to laugh so that I don't scream.  "Good-bye?  After four years, that's all we're gonna say to each other?"

            "Judge Gray –" he starts.

            "I'm not your boss anymore, Bruce.  You can call me Amy."  'Why is that so hard for you,' I think.

            He ignores my comment and answers my question with one of his own.  "What else would you like for me to say?"

            I close my eyes and take a deep breath in an effort to pull myself together.  "Nothing, Bruce.  That's exactly what I expected you to say."  I stand up and grab my keys and the box of things I cleaned out of my desk.  "I'm just sorry you feel the need to stay angry with me."

            "I'm not angry," he says too quickly.

            "Fine, you're not angry," I say as I push past him.  "That's why you haven't said more than two words to me since I told you I was leaving."

            "Oh," he chuckles, but I hear the anger he's trying to hide, "so I'm upset because you're leaving."

            "Are you?" I ask stopping at the door and turning back to face him.

            "Do you want me to be?"

            "I want you to react in some way," I say.  "I'd rather you be happy to see me go, than not care at all.  You're doing that shut down, strictly professional crap again, and I don't –"

            "Does it really matter how I feel about it?" he asks.

            "It shouldn't."  I give him a chance to reply, but he just shakes his head, so I leave.