Disclaimer: Not mine. Takes place after Guilt.
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"We were doing everything we could."
"I know," she said softly.
"Do you? Because you took things into your own hands soon as they started to go south."
She closed her eyes. "I know."
"I don't mean to give you another ass-chewing. I'm just saying, we had it. We would've gotten that search warrant and nailed his ass to the wall for you to prosecute. Legally, thst is..."
"It was le-"
"It was legal. I know. In a way... Petrovsky let it go, so it was all right." He fell silent, looking down at her, leaning against him, her legs stretched out over the rest of the couch. He brought his hand from where it was resting on her arm to run his fingers through her hair. "Don't let this eat you up or you'll be burnt out before you even start."
"Hmm," was all he received as response.
He leaned down and kissed the top of her head. She turned her head up, eyes still closed. He leaned down again and kissed her. He pulled up a bit, face hovering mere centimeters above hers. "So now we're reduced to comfort sex?" he asked, somewhat jokingly.
"Not 'we', but I am," and she pulled his head back down, her fingers weaving into the hair on the back of his head.
"Oh, so now I'm just a blow up doll?" he whispered.
"Shut up and kiss me."
He couldn't argue with that logic, so he leaned down and kissed her again. In the milliseconds between breaths, he realized something and pulled away again, this time a serious look on his face. "Alex-"
She sighed. "Please, John."
He searched her now open eyes for something, not exactly sure what, but knowing he hadn't found it. Instead, there was grief and guilt. He knew the look of both more intimately than most. Hell, he knew them so well that if a book were to be written about him, it's title could be Grief and Guilt. But he pushed that from his mind as he crushed his lips into hers, answering her plea without words.