"What the hell am I doing here?" Hart muttered quietly to himself. The smell of smoke and booze was heavy in the air as he brushed past a "couple" too wrapped up in each other to notice they were blocking the door.

This place, this bar was where it had all began. Where his life had started to go to hell. He took a step towards the side room, half expecting to still see her standing on that damn pool table. His life was at a stand still-why shouldn't everything else be?

He'd asked himself the same questions a thousand times-'Did I really love her?' and 'Was it worth it?' and every single time the answers were the same.

He and Cassie were...complicated, but he did love her-somehow-in a way he couldn't quite explain. Now, as he stood outside of the situation, looking back, he wondered if he loved the idea of the life they could have. The life he wanted with Dinah...the life he thought they would never have.

'Was it worth it?' Hell no.

"Stop it," she grumbled, pushing his face away from hers. "Don't touch me."

"A lady doesn't come in dressed like that expecting not to be touched," he mumbled, the smell of liquor overwhelming her as he leaned in closer.

She moved away as she felt his hand run up her thigh.

"I said Stop it!" She gritted her teeth, and grabbed for her bag, stumbling a little as she tried to slide off the high bar stool.

"Easy," he whispered. "You're a little unsteady there." He followed her as she headed towards the door. "What kind of guy would I be if I didn't walk you to your car."

She heard the door close behind her and she felt him growing closer. She tried to say something, but his mouth was on hers and her back was against the cold brick wall. Her nails clawed at his face, at his neck, at anything she could touch as she fought for breath and release.

He pulled away for a second, smiling proudly at his accomplishment. "Playing hard to get?"

She was scared now-the bravado gone-the snappy comebacks a thing of the past. Now she just wanted to go home, crawl into bed and cry. Why the hell had she come here?

"Please stop," she whispered her voice breaking through her tears. "I just wanna go home."

"Don't worry princess...no one's waiting at home for you."

She tried to scream, but his hand was pressed hard over her mouth. She felt his other hand pawing her and she heard the sound of her shirt ripping. Her eyes clenched shut-

"Get off of her!" a voice screamed.

Dinah's eyes flew open as she felt the man's hands release her. Her eyes struggled to focus through the tears, but she didn't need to see the face. She'd know that voice anywhere.

Her legs gave out beneath her and she slid down the wall, pulling her knees close to her chest as she sat on the cold concrete.

He hit him again and again and again. The man screamed, but he didn't care-didn't even hear him. All of the anger-for what the man had done, for what Hart's life had become, for what he had lost...all of it...it was all here...for this moment. He would have killed him-probably-had it not been for the soft whisper.

"Hart?"

He stilled, his hands releasing the collar of the man's shirt. He heard his body hit the pavement, and he glanced down, satisfied by the man's groans that he was alive, but not a threat. That voice...

A few steps towards the woman confirmed his suspicions. "Dinah," he said softly, touching her face. He reached into his jacket pocket, pulling a napkin he'd picked up from the bar.

Dinah winced slightly as she felt him touch the cut on her forehead. The red stream of blood seemed to disappear magically when he touched it. He could always heal her.

"We gotta get you to the hospital," he said quietly, forcing himself to focus on the current situation. He couldn't think about how crazy this was. He'd come back to town for his sister's engagement party. It had been an unspoken rule that no one mentioned Dinah...ever. She had long ago left town as far as he knew. What was she doing here? In a place like this? At night? Alone? Without him?

Her eyes fluttered closed as she fought for her breath. "No," she whispered, attempting to gather her purse and stand. Her breath caught again as she felt his arms wrapping around her. The warmth of his embrace made her feel so safe-so loved...so much like it used to be.

"I'm fine," she managed, shaking her head to refocus. "I've got to get home."

"You're hurt," he said quietly, the compassion and caring in his voice making her legs feel weak again. "You need to see a doctor."

"I don't. He didn't do anything. You stopped him." Her eyes locked with his for a second and she was surprised when he didn't look away. "You saved me."

Hart shook his head. "I did what anyone would do."

"No...some guys would have done what he did. Some would have walked right by...but not you. You stopped. You saved me."

'God...had it been six years or six minutes?' As he stood there now, staring into her eyes, it was as if they had never been apart. "What are you doing out here?"

He dropped his gaze almost immediately, the look in her eyes telling him all he needed to know. "Sorry," he whispered. "I know why..."

"She would have been seven today," she said quietly.

"Yeah," he responded, allowing her to lean against his chest, and letting his head rest on hers. "I know."

Seven years. Time was a funny thing, she thought as she stood in the silence. Neither of them knew quite what to say-and maybe that was part of the problem. Neither of them had said much of anything-even when it happened. Some days it seemed like it had been a century ago, others the pain was as real and as raw as it had been the moment she'd been told she was gone.

She was still so angry. She spent so much time plotting and scheming that she missed the moments-the precious moments, though at the time she didn't realize just how precious they were. In the end, she never got to see her face, never got to hold her tiny body, never even got to tell her how sorry she was and how much she loved her.

The days she'd spent at her grave, talking to the headstone were impossible to measure and yet, they never seemed like enough. She wondered if he ever went-ever thought about going, ever thought about Laura at all.

"I do think about her, you know," he said, his words breaking the heavy silence.

Dinah looked up, for a moment wondering if she'd actually been speaking aloud. But no, she knew she hadn't been. This was just the way he was-the way they were together. He knew what she was thinking even before she did.

"I haven't forgotten her. If that's what you think...I haven't."

She blinked hard, willing herself not to cry. "I never said you had." The walls came up almost immediately-instinctually. This was what she knew how to do.

Hart sighed, sensing the hostility in her voice and recognizing the signs of her shutting down. "Look, just let me take you out of here. We can go get you checked out and if the doctors say you're fine, I'll drive you home."

She walked past him, clutching her purse tightly. "I have my car. I don't need you to drive me. I'll be fine. I said I'm fine and I mean it...I'm fine." Even as she said the words she chastised herself. Why was she doing this? Why was she fighting him? Night after night she'd prayed that she'd have the chance to see him, to talk to him, to say everything she'd always wanted to say, and now here he was and she was, yet again, pushing him away.

He chuckled a bit in spite of himself and stopped immediately as she whirled around, her dark, fiery eyes glaring at him.

"Please tell me what part of this you find remotely funny?"

Stepping closer to her, he extended his hand, hesitantly. "It's not funny..nothing is funny. It's just..." He paused, considering his words carefully. "It's just nice to know that some things haven't changed. You're still as stubborn as hell."

He watched as her shoulders dropped a bit and she allowed him to take her purse and her keys. "Yeah," she said quietly, "So are you."