There are tears.

More of them.

Ever since she reopened the case of her father's supposed suicide, she feels like all she's done is cry. And, she's really not sure how much more she can handle. She'd felt raw and vulnerable through the duration of the case and she hates it. Megan Hunt just doesn't do vulnerability; she doesn't like the brokenness of it all. She doesn't like feeling like there is nothing left. She's not ruined, or at least, she doesn't think this case took everything out of her.

Even though, she knows the truth.

It had and she can't take it, anymore. It hurts like hell. Maybe that's why she's here. Frankly, Tommy Sullivan's apartment is the last place she ever thought she'd end up, but the wounds are still fresh, and she needs him. So, when he answers the door, she has no reason for the artificial smile she pastes on her face and hopes he invites her in. And, when he does, she sighs and takes in the scent of coffee and aftershave.

A simple question - how did she feel?

Megan's not exactly sure if she is because before she can really get her brain under control, her mouth is opening, and her heart is on its way out of her mouth and onto her sleeve. There's a decided lack of shock on his face; actually, there doesn't seem to be any emotion on Tommy's face until she zones in on the one thing that's kept a chasm between them.

" - And, I've held the past against you for way too long, Tommy. It's just not fair." Megan sees it on his face; the dumbfoundedness by her revelations but with every word, he moves closer. "You're not the man that you were twenty years ago and ever since you've been here - you've been showing me that over and over again." He's standing in front of her and she's still babbling, unable to keep quiet because the words won't just stop. She feels like she has to say this, for her sake more than for his but still, she needs to say it; "I don't even know why you put up with me. I don't."

The tears sting and burn and she wants them to fall but they're caught and she just can't seem to completely break down.

She can't.

But, he's there with those understanding blue eyes and he sees everything she's always terrified of showing. "Megan," His tender voice puts an end to her babbling and his thumb swipes at the tears in her eyes. "You're worth it."

Strong hands cradle her face, fingers lost in a tangle of red hair, and she revels in his touch. How tender but strong he'd always been, able to calm her even when hurricane Megan made an appearance. And, God, has she missed it; when eye contact became more intimate and the words spoken were just for the two of them. When the world falls away and it's just him and her.

He doesn't say it, doesn't have to.

She knows.

A tease at first, awkward and unsure, until she responds and caution gives way to heat. Megan reaches for whatever part of him is closest, hooking her fingers into his belt loops, and tugging him closer by his hips. Whether it's his own volition, or she pulls him, she doesn't know but he steps closer, and while she'd like to pull him in, feel every part of him against her, she can't. This needs to move at his pace, not hers, because she's held him back. He only pulls away to breathe before he's kissing her again.

Tommy's mouth is hot and demanding, but restrained, waiting for permission. Her hands grope him, almost obscenely, until she finds his shoulders and gives him a hard pull. That's all the invitation he needs to lock his arm around her and back her up into the nearest wall and reach for the zipper of her jacket.

Yes, Tommy.

She wraps her arms around his neck and fists his shirt in the back because she just got him and she'll be damned if she's letting him go anytime soon.

Because, God help them, they love each other.