They entered the loft together. Her hands reaching up unbuttoning her coat with a sigh. He caught it just as it slipped off her shoulders. Dropping her keys on the side table, she stepped out of her shoes, not even bothering to kick them out of his way. He hung up both their coats as she made her way through the loft into the kitchen.

Following her lead he picked up the takeout menu she had left on the counter. Leaving him to call in their usual order, she headed to their bedroom. After placing the order he opened a bottle of her favorite wine leaving it to breathe as he made his way into the living room.

He lit the fireplace, casting the room in a warm soothing glow. Crossing over to the stereo he put on her favorite jazz music. The smooth sound of Coltrane filled the loft providing a calming effect to their less than tranquil day.

The case had been awful. They left the precinct with the white board nearly empty of clues, frustration evident on all their faces.

He made his way back to the kitchen. Taking dishes from the cabinet he set the table. He lit the candles that were left from dinner the day before, or at least he thought that was when they had last been used. By the time he had finished, she had made her way back and was sitting at the table her head resting on her hand. He came around behind her, his strong hands rubbing her neck and shoulders .

Leaving her sitting there he went to answer the door, their dinner finally there.

Returning to the dining room, he placed the takeout on the table. She fixed their plates sliding his over to across from her, he poured them each a glass of wine, watching as she took a long sip.

He felt her leg wrap around his pulling it towards hers.

Then almost as one, their hands met across the table their fingers locking together.

They sat there, music playing softly, the light from the fire flickering in the background, the silence between them not feeling awkward at all.

Because sometimes words aren't necessary.