A/N: This is the product of a muse that has been given way too many challenges to fill all at once, and of a writer who does what the muse tells her to do. CI's not mine, and I suppose that one could consider this a post-ep for My Good Name, and that is all.
There was a reason why most cops tended not to tell their significant other about the things that happened on the job. But with them, things had always been somewhat different. He was still a cop, and she…well, she once had been, but tended not to follow what was going on with the department unless it had something to do with either one of them directly. And this…this definitely did.

It was late. The clock on the dashboard still hadn't gone off, and when he looked at it, bright green digits glared back at him. Eleven-thirty. It was a school night; Angie had more than likely shooed all of the girls off to bed at an earlier hour, and if she was already in bed when he finally made himself walk in, he wouldn't have been surprised. Part of him dreaded going into the house, knowing that she knew what had been going on for the past couple of weeks and knowing that she'd ask, but the other part of him wanted nothing more than to just go inside and sit with her for a while.

Jimmy had the feeling that if Aidan and Alicia had not come after him when they'd found out about what had happened, he'd have probably ended up too drunk to think, much less drive. In a way, he was grateful that they'd come into that bar, the one that they had gone to so many times before and the one that they would all probably continue going to, because none of them ever really had that much to do after work. But at the same time, he couldn't help but wish that they'd left him to his own devices: it would've hurt much less if he'd managed to get to the point where he could just forget about it all.

Then again, he mused as he finally forced himself to get out of the car so as to head inside, it wouldn't have really been worth the hangover the next morning. Alicia had pointed this out before practically frog-marching him out of the bar, with Aidan right behind them. He knew she was right, though, as much as he hated to admit it. She'd probably give him hell about it within the next few days, and there'd be nothing he could do to stop it, either. For all her sarcasm and the outward appearance that she didn't give a damn one way or the other, sometimes her comments really gave her away.

He wished it were that way with everyone. His feet felt like lead as he made his way up the front walk, and he had half a mind to just turn around and head back into Manhattan, to somewhere he knew no one would bother looking for him, because they would never expect to see him there. It was this thought that made a bitter laugh escape him as he fumbled in the darkness for his keys. Somewhere no one would expect to see him…something that no one would have expected to see from a cop, much less Frank Adair. He'd always been comfortable with speaking of his friend before, but now the name left a bitter taste in his mouth.

He wondered for a moment as he unlocked the door and stepped inside, closing it behind him, exactly how Angie was going to react to hearing about all of this. She'd never given the impression that she liked Frank much, though this was probably due to the fact that he had once been her lieutenant during her brief stint in IAD way back when. He wondered if she'd be surprised to hear that things had finally gone to this level with him…if she'd be surprised that he'd finally managed to sink lower than she more than likely already thought he was.

The television was on. He could see the lights from the screen on the wall as he walked towards the living room. Angie was wide awake and flipping channels, something he'd learned a while ago that she only did when she was upset and there was nothing better to do…usually on late nights like this. She heard his footsteps and turned around to face him, a look of relief spreading across her face as she did.

"I was about to come out looking for you," she said, mock seriously. "Where've you been hiding?"

"You don't want to know." Jimmy glanced towards the television screen and sighed before coming to sit down beside her, unbuttoning his collar as he did. "But I have the feeling that that answer's not going to get me anywhere."

"Well, it's a relief to know that you're not drunk in any case," Angie said mildly. He glanced over at her and shook his head.

"And exactly how would I have gotten home if I were drunk?" he asked. She rolled her eyes.

"If I remember correctly, Alicia still works in Manhattan," she said. "She'd have come to get you. None of the old lineup's exactly stupid enough to leave you to your own devices after you've had too much to drink."

"Unless they're drunk themselves, which usually doesn't happen, but considering what's been going on lately, I wouldn't have been surprised if they had been…Allie and Aidan, I mean." Jimmy said vaguely. Angie eyed him intently for a moment and shook her head.

"So," she said, "Are you going to bother explaining that particular remark to me, or are you just going to leave it until I start feeling that I have to beat it out of you?"

"For one who claims to keep up with the news, you sure don't seem to know anything," Jimmy said dryly. She gave him a look.

"I didn't ask for your sarcasm," she said, "I asked for an answer. Now, are you going to give me one or are you going to give me the runaround?"

For a few seconds, Jimmy found himself half tempted to just remain silent, but had the feeling that it would do nothing other than make her even more annoyed than she was starting to get. He sighed and ran a tired hand over his face before turning to look at her.

"That case the squad's been handling lately," he said finally, quietly. "Goren and Eames finally closed it."

"That's funny," said Angie, "I could've sworn the three of you were made to let a suspect walk for lack of evidence what with the way you walked in here."

"I almost wish we had been made to let a suspect walk," Jimmy muttered, turning away from her. "You remember me telling you that we had reason to believe Frank Adair was behind all of it?"

"Don't tell me he was…" Angie trailed off upon noticing the look on her husband's face and shook her head. "It was him, wasn't it?"

"Well, gee, Angie, don't look so surprised," Jimmy said acidly. "Yeah, it was him. And he can try and blame it on whoever he wants to, but he got himself into this."

"He gets himself into a lot of things that anyone else wouldn't have been able to get out of, but then again, the man's always been quite adept at lying his way out of it," Angie said dryly.

"If you ask me, he'd been in the department long enough to know that lying to Goren and Eames wasn't going to get him anywhere…they saw right through him." Jimmy paused for a moment and shook his head before going on. "And I didn't want to listen."

"One can hardly fault you for that; it's rare to find someone out there who's so willing to trust someone enough to take them for their word," said Angie. "He knew you would, and he played on that. You ask me, that's a lot worse than you not listening to your detectives."

"They've never had any reason to lie to me about something like that; I should've listened, but…"

"But you'd rather not think that someone you've known for so long is capable of some idiotic stunt like this." Angie shook her head and leaned back before going on. "Sometimes you make me wonder who's really the naïve one around here."

"Yes, because you really thought before this that he could've done something like this without anyone finding out."

"There used to be a time where he actually gave a damn about people other than himself; I'm not surprised it finally got to the level where he didn't, but you would think he'd have at least had the decency to think about the effect this would have on his family, never mind everyone else."

"When you get to a certain point, not even one's family will matter to them anymore."

Silence fell between them, then, broken only by the sound of the television. Angie glanced over at it and rolled her eyes, reaching for the remote so that she could turn it down.

"Why do I have the feeling that there's a lot more to this than you're actually telling me?" she asked. Jimmy glanced over at her and sighed.

"There's not, really," he said. "I just…I don't get it. Almost everyone in the department knows who he is; you say his name, and any number of people are almost instantly saying something good about him, and then this happens, and we're all left wondering what the hell went wrong."

"Not every cop is as straight-laced as you'd like to think," Angie said dryly. "Time changes things. No one's going to stay the same, especially not when they get to the levels he got to. Some people are just better at keeping it from going to their head."

"I have the feeling that I don't want to know which one you mean," Jimmy replied, and she smirked.

"Get your mind out of the gutter and focus for a minute," she told him. "You and the squad didn't do anything but your jobs. Frank's the one that went around having affairs and murdering people and whatever else it is that he did. It's not up to you to find out what went wrong with him. He broke the law, you nailed him for it, and that's all there is to it."

She paused for a moment and then went on again, her voice changing from mildly amused to thoughtful. "No one's ever gonna know what can make a man change so much that he starts following down a path that's gonna get him nowhere," she said, "Besides that, if said man really is one, then he'll stick to whatever it is that he knows and/or thinks is right, and not let himself be led down some proverbial path of sin."

"I'm starting to think I remember exactly why it is that I'm in love with you," Jimmy said mildly. "Thanks for listening…I really needed this."

Angie rolled her eyes and leaned forward to kiss him before rising to her feet "I'm going to bed," she said. "Care to join me?"