1A/N: I wrote this story as a "companion piece" to Random Thoughts on a Rainy Morning. (That story deals with Bobby's thoughts on a rainy Saturday morning. This story takes place the following day: a sunny, beautiful Sunday, and is mostly from Bishop's POV, although there is interaction between Goren and Bishop)

As always, I own none of Dick Wolf's characters but do thank him for sharing.

Sunday, Sunny Sunday

It was Sunday morning.

Bishop awoke to the sounds of birds singing, dogs barking and the laughter of the neighborhood kids as they played in the park across the street from her apartment. She yawned and stretched –– ever since she was a little girl, she had always kicked the covers from the bed as she slept — and she delighted in the feeling of the sun's warmth enveloping the length of her body.

It was going to be a beautiful day, far better than the prior day had been. Saturday was a dreary, rainy day which had robbed her of all ambition to do anything but cuddle on the couch with her cat and alternate between watching TV and reading.

She got up and made her way to the kitchen, a trip made almost hazardous by the cat who wove in and out of her legs with every step, rubbing against her and impatiently mewing for its morning meal.

After a light breakfast and a shower, she was ready to get out and enjoy all the city had to offer – well, as much as she could cram into a day, anyway. Dressed in a perfectly fitting pair of Max Azria white, linen-blend cropped pants, a pale blue cami with matching beaded shrug and her favorite pair of Enzo Angiolini sandals – silver/blue metallic, (with a heel low enough to be comfortable for walking, but high enough to be stylish), she grabbed her D&B hobo bag, kissed her cat good-bye and headed for the wonderful outdoors.

She whiled away the hours, just strolling and enjoying being out in the air. She window-shopped, browsed around the various stands of the street vendors and stopped to treat herself to lunch at an outdoor café. There was a movie playing at The Angelica that she really wanted to see, but decided against it; having been trapped indoors by Saturday's gloomy weather, she wanted to at least salvage the one remaining day of her weekend and enjoy being outside. She hated going to the movies alone, anyway.

She happened upon a flower shoppe with a beautiful display of colorful bouquets — which suddenly jolted her to thoughts of Alex (and the bouquets always left by Bobby). A twinge of guilt gnawed at her conscience as she thought, "I haven't been to visit Alex in over a month." She checked her watch, "3:30 – I have plenty of time." She decided that she would buy a bouquet and make the trip to the cemetery.

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She usually sat and spoke to Alex, but thought better of it this time; not wanting to get grass stains on her new white slacks. She did, however, step out of her sandals to feel the cool grass underfoot. She spoke softly – as if having a private conversation – filling Alex in on the events of the past several weeks, but mostly talking about how Bobby was doing. "...I still see the sadness in his eyes...he misses you so much...and, sometimes, well, you know how moody he can get...he snapped at me and the Captain the other day when we didn't agree with one of his theories, but Deakins knows he doesn't mean it...he's being really patient with him and I remember what you told me...I know he's not angry with me for being there...he's just still sad that you're not..." As she kept "talking" to Alex, (purposely avoiding looking to the left at Bobby's headstone –the sight of it still somehow gave her the 'creeps') she didn't hear the soft footsteps approaching.

"Umm, hi," a soft said.

Startled, her head swung around to see Bobby standing behind her, holding a huge bouquet – a dozen red roses, surrounded by baby's breath and ferns. He looked good in his casual clothes and sunglasses. She felt herself blush, butterflies forming in her stomach – as if she was caught doing something or being somewhere that she didn't belong.

Bobby easily read the look on her face.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," he said, as he walked to the headstone and placed the flowers opposite of the bouquet which Bishop brought. "I usually come on Saturdays, but with the rain yesterday..." (The rain was only a partial excuse. Bobby didn't mention the lingering headache and queasiness in his stomach from his night out drinking with Lewis).

"Me too.. I haven't been here in a few weeks...with the bad weather yesterday, I just stayed in all day, but today was so beautiful..." She was talking too much – she knew it, but somehow couldn't fight the nervousness and stop herself. She looked at the flowers he had just placed down. "They're beautiful."

Bobby gave a small nod, "I, I always gave her roses on her birthday. It would've been this coming Wednesday."

Bishop didn't know what to say. Bobby sounded so sad. "I guess I'll get going so you can be alone..."

"No," he protested almost too quickly. "It's all right, you don't have to."

Now she didn't know what to do. Did he really want her to stay...or just not mind her staying...or was he just being polite. So she just stood there – still. Without her noticing, Bobby had inched his way next to her –very close next to her– she could feel the heat from his arm as it oh-so-lightly brushed against hers.

"How did you get here?"

"The subway – and I walked a couple of blocks."

"I'll give you a ride home," Bobby offered, while glancing at her bare feet and thinking to himself, "Pretty feet...nice pedicure and a...a toe ring." A small smile crossed his lips.

She smiled, "Okay, thanks." She felt uncomfortable standing there next to him. She didn't exactly know why, but couldn't help but feel that she was intruding on a private moment. "Look, I can wait in the truck and give you some time alone," she offered.

He dipped his head to the left, his cheek almost brushing against her hair. "Thanks...I won't be long, okay? Umm, take the keys so you can turn on the air conditioner if you need it."

She took the keys from his large, warm hand and smiled. He watched as she picked up her sandals and headed off to the SUV. He wasn't used to seeing her in casual "girly" clothes – he saw her in a different light and was intrigued.

After briefly talking to Alex and saying a silent prayer, he headed back to truck and got in the driver's side. He caught Bishop's sideways glance and smile.

"What?"

She self consciously brushed back a wisp of hair and giggled. "Nothing...it's just, I'm not used to seeing you...ya' know...not in a suit and tie...and in the driver's seat."

"I– I'm not used to it e-either," he stammered. He kept his eyes forward, watching the road. "I mean, seeing you...you look pretty." He instantly wanted to kick himself for the comment. "I didn't mean you don't look nice every day, I just meant the casu..."

She cut him off, mid-sentence. "Don't worry, I know what you meant. I, um, I do like dressing like a girl on the weekend," she chuckled.

He put the radio on, but kept the volume low. He asked her about the facts of a case that they had been talking about on Friday, but she wasn't going to let him off that easy – using work-talk to avoid a personal conversation – Eames had warned her about that technique. She smiled to herself.

"I don't discuss work on the weekends," she said teasingly. "This is my time."

He admired her answer. It made him feel comfortable – it had a familiar ring. It was just the type of bossy thing Eames would have said.

"So, what do you talk about on the weekends?" He asked back, with a teasing tone in his voice, as well.

"I dunno' know...current events, books I've read...movies."

He nodded his head, but remained silent.

"You wanna' grab something to eat?" He kept driving, eyes forward; feeling a little awkward and embarrassed while waiting for her response.

"Sure, if you want to," was her verbal response, while in her head it was: "Oh my God, he just asked me out to dinner!" She hoped her excitement didn't show.

"Yeah...um, there's a place in Little Italy where Alex and I used to go...it was her favorite – – if, if you like Italian."

"I love it. Sounds great," she smiled.

"It's a little early, though...if you're not too hungry yet, maybe we can do something before dinner."

She couldn't believe her ears. Was this really her partner, Bobby Goren...finally coming out of his self-imposed protective shell and warming up to her? "Alex was right," she thought to herself. She shouldn't have been so surprised at that fact. After all, Alex knew Bobby better than anyone. How long had it taken Bobby to talk to her like a partner/friend? She recited to herself, "Four months, one week, six days and," she checked her watch, "sixteen hours."

"Do you have something else to do?"

She turned towards him, eyebrows raised "No."

He took his right hand from the steering wheel, index finger wagging, "You just checked your watch...I thought maybe you have somewhere else to be." He sounded a little dejected and slightly nervous.

"No," she chuckled, "It's just a habit, I guess. "You know what?"

"What?"

"I think I'm right where I'm supposed to be."

There was confidence in her voice. A certainty to her statement that reassured him. He remained silent, thinking about her words.

"So?" She asked, breaking the silence.

"Oh...sorry...something to do before dinner," he said, reminding himself. "There's a movie playing at The Angelica I wanted to see."

"Great. Let's go," she smiled.

"Great," he said, wagging his finger in her direction action. "But I'm not gonna' let ya' fill up on popcorn and spoil your dinner," he said chuckling.

"Deal," she answered.

He continued driving. She continued thinking. The silence between them was no longer awkward – they were now comfortable just being together.

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They each thoroughly enjoyed the movie and their dinner, both of which were Bobby's treat. They lingered over cappuccino and dessert and talked for over two hours, getting to know each other better – discussing all different things: movies, books, college, experiences on the job. She enjoyed his Army stories the most – and was constantly distracted by the thought of him in that uniform.

When their evening came to an end, he insisted on walking her inside to her door, despite her protests that she would be okay. She opened the lock and stepped inside, turning back towards him. "See? All safe – I'm in," she joked.

"Lock up as soon as I leave."

She laughed inwardly: he was so serious. "I will. Thanks, Bobby. I had a really nice time."

"Y, you're welcome...s-so did I. Umm, so, see ya' tomorrow," he smiled.

"Yup...hey, I'll pick up breakfast. You treated me enough today."

He smiled and nodded as she closed the door. He waited for the sound of the dead-bolt lock being engaged before turning to leave.

Her smile was beaming, as she leaned against the door. "You're right again, Alex," she said to herself. "He just needed time. He's a perfect gentleman and just as nice and charming as you promised he would be."

THE END.