A/N: This story is a sequel to "After The Bullets." So if you wonder how Brenda and Fritz got to this point, please go back and read that story. And, as always, I'm really hungry for your feedback. Thank you.

When Brenda passed the security lines heading toward LAX's baggage claim, Fritz was waiting for her with a smile. She saw him right away and gave him a big kiss. As he took her into his embrace and she felt his warmth and smelled his aftershave, she realized just how much she had missed him during the time she had been in Atlanta with her daddy and it took her breath away. After collecting her luggage they boarded the shuttle bus for the short ride to the parking lot and to the car. HER car. Her NEW car. Her FIRST new car. "Fritz! You drove my new car to the airport." It was an accusation.

"Yes. Jerry drove me to the dealer at lunch time and I picked it up. I wanted to surprise you." He sounded confused. He thought she'd be excited but she sounded angry.

"But I wanted to be the first person to drive it. You drove it before me." Now her tone was a mix of anger and disappointment.

"I thought I'd help you out by taking care of the paperwork and driving it out here. You're going to drive it home." He was earnestly explaining his good intentions.

"But I've never bought a car before. I wanted to do it all myself. Pickin it up. Doin the paperwork. Drivin it home. All of it. And you ruined everythin. You drove it first." That was frustration, anger, and disappointment. This was not going like Fritz had thought it would.

"I'm sorry, honey. I honestly thought you'd be pleased."

While Fritz put her suitcases into the hatchback, she climbed in behind the wheel. When Fritz got into the passenger seat he handed her the little electronic transmitter that substitutes for a key. She adjusted the seat and the mirrors and studied the dash trying to remember the salesman's instructions when she took her test drive. "I'm gonna have to study the owner's manual," Brenda mused out loud.

"It's pretty much what you're used to. You just..." Fritz stopped. He saw her angry face and decided it was in his best interest to just sit there and let her figure it out for herself, no matter how long it took.

After she finished studying the controls and shooting flaming daggers at Fritz with her eyes, she started the car and they drove home. Fritz just knew he was somehow going to pay for his mistake and he saw his visions of passionate lovemaking that night evaporating under the glare of his wife's anger and disappointment so he sighed and settled back in his seat.


Brenda had only been back from Atlanta a few days and already she was bored. She would start at the DA's office soon and had spent time while in Atlanta studying that office's policy and procedural manuals. At her request she had teleconferenced with the outgoing Chief of the Bureau of Investigations to discuss the way the unit functions and what the unit's most pressing needs were.

She had given up crucifying Fritz for picking her up in her new car and she had been driving it but was not yet completely familiar with all of its features. When she drove it she found herself looking for places where she could practice using the Prius' self parking feature and then, when she found a spot requiring parallel parking, she decided to look for another parking space instead. Truth be told, it scared her. When she saw the steering wheel turning by itself and felt the car moving on its own, her instinct was to stomp on the brake and grab the wheel. Even though the salesman who showed her that feature told her not to do it, she couldn't help herself. But she knew she needed to make herself practice parallel parking.

More than anything, she wanted to call Buzz because she knew his car had that feature. She wanted to ask him for advice on how to get used to it. But she also knew that Captain Raydor had to establish herself as the head of Major Crimes and she didn't want to contact any of her old team just yet, even if it was not work related. "No. For the time bein I've just got to let Sharon gain control over my unit. Includin Buzz."

"My unit." Oh, how she missed Major Crimes! She thought about her guys more than she knew she should. And certainly more than she would admit to Fritz. He was absolutely ecstatic that she had changed jobs and she didn't want him to know how much she sometimes regretted leaving the LAPD. But when she thought about her team proceeding without her leadership she teared up.

"I've got to stop thinkin about Major Crimes," she resolved, "I'm gonna keep busy around here." And so on Thursday she decided to tackle the duplex one room at a time, and give each one a good cleaning. But her progress was stalled by the smallest room: her closet. She had way too many clothes crammed into that closet, even though it was a generous size. So she pulled everything out, examined each item and tried to decide which pieces to send to the Salvation Army. But each one held bittersweet memories and she found herself getting melancholy as she tried to pare her wardrobe down to size.

When she went to get a box to hold her donations she saw the clock and realized that Fritz would be home soon. He had called earlier in the day and said he wanted to go out for dinner. So she left the guest room bed covered with mounds of clothes and headed for the shower. The clothes would just have to wait until tomorrow.

Fritz came home while she was still in the bathroom. When he saw that her closet was empty a brief moment of panic grabbed him. But reason soon took over. He knew the car debacle certainly wasn't enough to send her packing.

He had realized that Brenda needed more of a diversion. He knew that she had been struggling for things to do to keep herself busy and to keep him from figuring out how badly she missed her old job. But Fritz hadn't been fooled. He had seen her sad expressions when she didn't think he was paying attention. And so he had suggested a dinner out at her favorite restaurant in an attempt to cheer her up.

But now he had a more immediate issue. "Honey, what have you done with all of your clothes?"

"They're all in the guest bedroom," she answered as she moved from the bathroom to the bedroom to get dressed. "I've run out of room and I need to sort them out and get rid of some of them. I'll finish it tomorrow."

Fritz was definitely reassured, even though he knew there was no rational reason to be concerned. So, feeling relieved, it was his turn in the shower.

At dinner, Brenda asked, "Isn't this your night to go to a meetin?"

"Well, yes. But I can go to a meeting any night and I wanted to take you out to dinner."

"Remember, I promised to go to a meetin with you when I got back from Atlanta. Do you want to go tonight?"

"No. Not tonight. It'll be over by the time we're done with dinner. We can go another night."

"Are you sure? I want to keep my promise."

"Yes, I'm sure. We can pick a date and go any night. Tonight's no big deal."

"Ok. Pick a day, then."

"Well, first we need to decide what kind of meeting you want to attend," Fritz started to explain. But Brenda interrupted him.

"What do you mean 'what kind of meetin'?" Brenda was confused. "I want to attend an AA meetin."

"Yes, I know. But there are different kinds."

"I want to attend the kind that you go to. What kind do you attend?"

"Different ones. But you might get the most from a Discussion meeting."

"Ok. Then that's the one I want to see."

"Well, I know of one Saturday morning but I promised Paul Gleason I'd help him install a sound system in his family room this Saturday morning. But there's another one Monday night."

"All right. Then how about Monday night? I have an appointment at the beauty shop Saturday mornin, anyway."

"Then Monday it is." Fritz smiled, took her hand and said, "Thank you. This means a lot to me."

And she smiled back at him because she knew she was doing something for him that he really cared about. She thought, "This will be better than me cookin and cleanin. Maybe even better than sex. Well, no. Not better than sex. At least it had better not be," and she broadened her smile.

That night Brenda decided to establish that her talents in the bedroom were way more important than cooking and cleaning. And judging by Fritz's reactions, he was 100% in agreement.

Brenda finished cleaning the duplex the next day and then dropped off the box of clothes at the Salvation Army store. On Sunday they had intended to go to Venice Beach. Brenda wasn't good on roller skates but then, neither was Fritz. Whenever they went skating they usually spent the day laughing at their awkwardness. But the Santa Ana winds were blowing so they decided to rent a couple of movies and stay home. Fritz brought movies that he thought Brenda would like but she seemed distracted. Finally, half-way through the first movie, he pushed the pause button and said "Ok, what's wrong?"

"What do you mean? Nothin's wrong," Brenda lied.

"You've been unhappy for days. And it's not the fact that I drove your car first. So what's going on?"

Brenda gave a wan smile, "No, it's not the car, even though you should not have driven it before I did," as she shook her finger in his face.

Fritz knew that if he responded to her car comment that he would be walking into a land mine so he just asked, "Well, what is it, then?"

"I'm just missin my job. I'm bored."

"I see. But it won't be long before you start your new one."

"I know. But I've got nothin to do right now. And every time I hear about a murder on the news I want to call my squad and get them in motion. But it's not my squad any more. It's Captain Raydor's squad now."

Even though they didn't make it to her eyes, Fritz heard the tears in her voice. "I'm sorry, honey. I know it's rough letting go. But pretty soon you'll be busier than you can handle with your new job." He understood that as long as she had time on her hands that she'd be restless and bored. And those were two things she'd never learned how to deal with.

"And, to top it all off, I opened the envelope with all my discharge paperwork from the LAPD today. It just made everythin so final."

Fritz sighed and put his arms around his wife. "It'll get better soon. I promise."


On Monday Fritz made sure to leave work a few minutes early. When he entered the bedroom he found Brenda standing in her closet in her underwear staring at her clothes. "I know what you wear to your meetin's, but what do the women wear?" she asked without turning around.

"I don't know. I guess most just either wear what they wore to work or jeans. You see everything at an AA meeting. It really doesn't matter," Fritz explained.

"Well, it matters to me. I don't want to stand out at my first meetin."

Although he didn't ask, he pondered her use of the word "first" as he walked into the bathroom to shower.

"What do you want to do about dinner?" Brenda called to him still staring at her clothes.

"Let's stop on our way and get something quick," he replied.

Brenda knew that getting "something quick" meant he wanted to eat at Buster's, his favorite burger joint. That usually called for jeans but she decided to put on a pair of light green slacks and a green and beige print top. She finished up her hair and makeup while he dressed and out the door they went.

Although she had spent a good part of the day researching the AA organization online, she still peppered Fritz with questions in the car. She could tell from his expression that he was impressed that she had gone to the trouble to learn a little bit about the history and function of AA. In fact, he was more than impressed. He was incredibly proud of his wife.

When they got to the meeting they got themselves a cup of coffee and sat down in the large circle of chairs. As others entered they greeted Fritz warmly and he introduced Brenda by her first name only. She noticed that everyone seemed perfectly normal and that she would never have guessed that any one of them was an alcoholic.

Finally the evening's leader began the discussion by recounting his own temptation during the past week. Others readily chimed in and Brenda listened intently to their stories about troubles at work, unsupportive spouses, etc. As she listened she realized how important the support of a husband and wife is to the recovery process and she thought about all the times that she had not been supportive of Fritz. She felt more than a few few pangs of regret for her own insensitivity to his needs.

But one woman's account of temptation stunned her. The woman, who had identified herself as Fran when she had introduced herself, recounted how her husband's drinking really bothered her. She said that whenever he drank and then kissed her that she almost went crazy with her need for a drink.

As Fran began to speak more about her relationship with her husband and his reaction to her sobriety, Brenda could no longer focus on what she was saying. Her mind was racing. And her feelings of guilt were racing too. Did her drinking pose a problem for Fritz? Did her kisses threaten his sobriety?

After the meeting, Brenda could not wait to get out of there and into the car. As soon as they were on the road home Fritz asked, "Well, what did you think?"

"It was interestin. Fritz, if I ask you somethin will you promise to tell me the absolute truth?" Brenda sounded agitated.

"Of course I will. What is it?" The urgency in her voice made him apprehensive.

Brenda passed right by reassuring him and went right to her issue. "Does my drinkin bother you? Does it make it harder for you to stay sober?" She still sounded agitated.

"No, it doesn't bother me. Remember the first night we met in LA? I ordered you a glass of wine. I knew you drank when we started dating. And you don't drink that much."

Brenda pressed. "But that woman. Fran. She said that her husband's drinkin made it harder for her."

"Not everyone has the same triggers that make them feel like they need a drink. Didn't you hear others talk about how their jobs and how fights with the neighbors make them want to drink?"

"Yes, I heard all that. But I can't do anythin about your job. You have to deal with that. And we don't have trouble with the neighbors. I just don't want my kisses makin you need to drink. That would be my fault."

"No, it wouldn't. Look, first of all, my sobriety is my problem. And I have never wanted you to think it was yours as well. That's one reason why it took so long for me to tell you that I'm an alcoholic."

Brenda wasn't convinced. "Are you tellin me that my kissin you when I've had a glass of wine doesn't bother you? At all?"

"That's exactly what I'm telling you. And it doesn't bother me for two reasons. First of all, there's not much alcohol left in your mouth when we kiss. And drinking wine has never interested me. Now if you were a scotch drinker I might have a problem. But you're not. So, no. Your drinking a glass of wine before I kiss you doesn't make me want to drink."

Brenda was quiet while she processed what Fritz had just told her. Finally she asked, "Ok. But will you promise me somethin?"

Fritz read her mind. "I promise that if your drinking ever bothers me that I'll tell you."

Brenda was reassured. And, more importantly, she was even more proud of her husband. She took his hand and said softly, "Now I understand how strong you have to be to deal with this on your own. You are even more of an amazin man than I realized. And I love you more tonight than I did this mornin."

And when they got home, she proved it.