Disclaimer: I do not own TDI or any of the characters.

A/N: Thank you to everyone who has reviewed so far! I really appreciate it. I want to apologize for the delays in updating, for I've been having computer issues. Anyways, I hope you like the chapter. R&R!

He glanced around the park, walking slowly. When he saw her, his eyes widened and he stopped in his tracks. Duncan ran a shaking hand through his hair as he wondered if he should approach his old flame or let her be. Silently, he chose to approach.

"Hello, princess," he whispered in her ear, "It's been a while."

He heard her breath catch as soon as he uttered the words. She quickly swung around to face him and murmured, "Duncan?"

Softly, he smiled a moment before fidgeting and staring at the concrete ground. "The one and only." She eyed him for a moment, taking it all in. He had shaved off his Mohawk and his jet-black hair was now thinner and graying. Duncan had removed his piercings and dog collar, trading his skull shirt for a red polo and faded jeans. The juvenile delinquent no longer looked like a criminal.

Breaking the awkward silence, she quietly asked, "So, how've you been?"

"Good. You?" When she responded in kind, he simply nodded. Duncan had known this would be the answer, but he also knew the truth. She was unhappy. Courtney had never been good at hiding her emotions, and he still remembered staring at the picture in the newspaper. It had been nearly a year ago, at her husband's reelection night party. Jack Whitehouse had been grinning from ear to ear, but it Courtney that had caught his attention. Her smile was forced and even now, he could see the sadness in her eyes.

"So," he began, "you want to go to the coffee shop around the block? You know, catch up."

She pondered the question for a moment before nodding, and they soon found themselves sitting in an uncomfortable silence, sipping coffees. After so many years had passed, both had assumed that they would never see each other again and there was a certain awkwardness in the meeting.

Blinking his gaze away and breaking the silence, she asked, "What're you doing these days?" It was, she supposed, an icebreaker question, to distract from the uncomfortable silence and incredible awkwardness of the moment.

Nursing a single cup of black coffee, he tugged roughly at his collar. "After our, uh, relationship ended, I joined the marines. I served two years in combat and ended up joining the police force. Needless to say, the people I knew were surprised." He chuckled softly before continuing. "I got married, had two kids, and got divorced. You?"

"Well, you know that I married Jack. We have one son, Eric, and he's a sophomore at Harvard, political science major and planning on a career in law. Family tradition—Jack was crowing that he'd chosen our boy had chosen his father's alma mater over his mother's. Of course, you could've gathered all of that from the papers. What about you, your ex-wife and kids?" She shook her head at the memories.

He nodded silently, for he had gathered similar information from the newspapers. But it felt oddly comforting to hear the news stated bluntly from her soothing voice. Snapping out of the trance, he rubbed the stubble growing on his increasingly unshaven face. "Well, after I joined the police force, I met a woman named Stacy. One thing led to another and we got married. My older son, Braden, is a freshman at Georgetown. He wants to be an attorney and then go into politics. I about had a heart attack when he told me it. My younger son, Ryder, is a junior in high school and he, well I don't know what he wants to do with his life."

He smiled softly, downing what was left of his coffee. "About nine years ago, Stacy asked me for a divorce. She told me that there had always been a distance between us, and over time, that distance grew into a chasm. She thought I didn't love her, not by th end anyways."

"Did you?"

He pondered the question for a rather lengthy moment. Admittedly, he himself had often wondered the same thing. "I-I don't know. I think that I did love her, but that I wasn't in love with her, not really. Does that make me a bad person?"

She stared at him for a few seconds. No, it didn't, she concluded. After all, she wasn't in love with Jack either. But then, it was different. Stacy had been in love with him and for him to not love her the way she loved him was a bit unfair. Jack on the other hand, had only been looking for a suitable wife to further his damned political career. Gently shifting the topic away, she suggested, "We're both done with our coffees. Why don't we go?"

Obliging, he guided her to the door and back to the park. Watching quietly as she attempted to start her car, he couldn't help but wonder what would've happened had things turned out differently. Could they have survived? Should they have?

He heard her pound frustratedly on the steering wheel. "Dammit! It won't fucking start!"

Before he realized what he was doing, he walked towards her, chuckling. "Now where, Princess, did you learn those words?" She seemed to wince at the name, and he inwardly kicked himself for letting it slip. It had become almost second nature to call her Princess. Years ago, it may have been appropriate, but they weren't teenagers anymore, they weren't together, and she was married.

He bent down slowly, running a hand through his hair. "Hey, I'll give you a ride. You can have a tow truck come and take it to the shop to get it checked out."

She nodded, stepping out of her car. "Duncan, thank you. And take me to the, uh, Marriott Hotel down by the City Center." Upon noticing his raised eyebrow, she decided to tell him the truth. "Before I came here this afternoon, I walked in on Jack with another woman. I can't go back there, not tonight anyways."

Forcing himself to unclench his fist, he nodded. The bastard was lucky that he had learned some measure of self-restraint over the years—anyone with half a brain could tell that Courtney was hurting. "Well why don't you, uh, stay at my place tonight? Ryder's with Stacy and I have an extra room."

Catching the somewhat pleading look in his eyes, she reluctantly agreed. "Alright."

The ride to his home was quiet, though not as uncomfortably so. Pulling into his driveway, she realized that had things turned out differently, this could've been her home. He gently led her into the house and down a hallway before opening a door. "Here," he pointed, gesturing wildly at the room. "I need to give the station a quick phone call."

As he turned to leave, I stared at him. "Duncan?" He stopped in his tracks, turning back to me. "I just wanted to apologize for everything that has happened. I know that I hurt you, and I'm sorry."

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