Opening his eyes, he was surprised to find himself in the guest bedroom. He frowns trying to remember, but his head is pounding. He has a vague memory of Dee Dee waking him up and leading him upstairs, but isn't sure if it was morning or night. The only he remembers clearly is that she led him left down the hall not right; the closed door to the master bedroom a dark, menacing chasm. Even hungover as he was and groggy from sleep, he recognized this kindness. Now, some time later lying perfectly still he is suffering from the after effect of his days of drinking. He can already feel the pull of the bottle. The light from the windows make it clear to him that it must be day, but he has no desire to face it; no desire to do anything but close his eyes and forget. Below he can hear voices; McCall talking to someone else. There better not be an intervention going on downstairs. He thinks wearily. But curiosity finally pushes him to crawl slowly out of the bed. He replaces the sweats he has been wearing for the last week or so, for a pair of jeans that lay slung over a chair. They are still warm from the dryer, but even the smell of the fabric softener pains him; brings with it too many memories.

He is confused momentarily as he steps into the kitchen. It is clean; the counters gleaming and the curtains open. The house is spotless. Dee Dee is talking to two ladies who stand before her nodding their heads.

"That's great. You've worked so hard! Thanks, Marisol. I really appreciate you coming on short notice! It looks great." She glances over at him and continues. "You can start upstairs now. Remember, leave the master suite alone."

"Master suite?" He raises an eyebrow as the two ladies gather their cleaning supplies and head upstairs. "Making my beach house sound like the manor. You've been in England too long." He rubs the back of his neck. "Why is it so bright in here?"

"Well, they just finished washing your windows for one thing and also because it is 1:15. Here." She hands him three pills and a glass of water.

"I'd rather have a drink."

He somehow manages to stretch himself to his full height, hoping his towering presence will be enough to intimidate her. People always used to remark on the height difference between them. If you stacked two of her - one on each other's shoulders - you would get one Hunter. That's what people used to say. It isn't precisely true. It would only take one-and-half McCalls, but it doesn't matter anyway. She was never intimidated by his height or his gruff manner. And so, when he looms over her now, she doesn't even react. She simply stands glaring at him silently with one hand on her hip. He recognizes the technique. She's used it thousands of times on weak-willed suspects, who eventually break under the pressure of her stubborn determination. He reaches out, accepting the aspirin and water. Swallowing the pills he says, "Been busy, haven't you?"

"Well, you know how I enjoy a challenge. I bet you feel like hell." Her compassionate smile is too much and he turns from her and even that slight movement brings a wave of nausea.

"You didn't have to do all this. I would've cleaned up eventually."

"I doubt it." She turns from him. "You think you can manage food?"

He shakes his head slowly and sinks into a nearby chair, resting his forehead on the cool surface of the table.

"Maybe later." He groans.

"Well, we've got a tight schedule."

"We do?" He raises his head to look at her.

"Jody's expecting us at 2:30."

"She is? She'll have a shotgun waiting for me then! She's pissed as hell at me." He is embarrassed by the fight; ashamed that he was drunk; ashamed that Jody had to take Deanna away. And even worse than all of that is the fact that Dee Dee knows all about it. He wonders just how much she knows. He rests his head on his arms, leaning over the table, wishing that she would leave so he could drink and go back to bed.

She considers him thoughtfully, and finally responds. "Rick, she's been through a lot. You both have. She was just worried about Deanna. Whatever you both said it came from hurt. You know she only wants what is best for you and for Little Dee."

"So you talked to her." He sighs, hoping that the details of the fight weren't part of the conversation.

He's ashamed to have her witness how much he's allowed things to fall apart; how far he's fallen. He knows she's probably already talked to the chief, and no doubt knows that he's been put on an indefinite leave. The thought of all that she knows causes him to burn with shame, which unexpectedly turns to anger. He glances up at her and feels his mood swing; an unreasonable anger washing over him.

"What do you think you are doing anyway? This isn't any of your business! You show up and start barking orders. I'm not a child! You can't just boss people around! I didn't invite you!"

"No. You didn't." He can hear the hurt in her voice. "You didn't want me here. You made that really clear the last time we talked and then you didn't answer your phone for three weeks!" She sits down across from him and shaking her head, looks at him with those damn, pleading eyes of hers. "What did you think I would do? Jesus, Rick! Look in the mirror! I can't just leave you alone to . . ." She lifts her hands, gesturing wildly. "What if it were flipped around? What if it were me? There's no way you would have stayed away! No way! You wouldn't have waited as long as I did!"

She's right, of course, which is one of the reasons he wanted to keep her away. Truth isn't high on his priority list right now. As fast as his rage swept over him, it abates, and he shakes his head again.

"Well, I guess being five months pregnant slowed you down some.!" He tells her with a grin. Rubbing his face with his hand he continues, "Look, Dee Dee I appreciate you coming here. I appreciate you getting it all cleaned up and smoothing things over with Jody. But I can't . . ." He sighed. "I can't deal with people just now. I say things I shouldn't. I blow up. I can't control it."

"I'm not people."

"Please, Dee Dee, leave it alone. I'm doing the best I can and . . . I just can't be around anyone. My temper just comes over me and I wouldn't want to . . ." He turns his face away. "I couldn't bear it if I hurt you."

"Well, good thing I'm tougher than I look." She answers gently. "Rick, please, let me help you. Just this once, okay?"

"McCall . . ."

"Go on, and take a shower. You don't want to be late, and give Jody a new reason to be mad at you." She grins at him.

"You aren't even listening to me!"

"I am. I understand, and I'm not worried about your anger, okay? I know you'll say something mean to me. It's not like you've been a real sweetheart up until now. I don't care about that. Those things don't matter to you and me. Just go on and take a shower. It won't hurt you to get cleaned up a little."

He sighs deeply and rises, but pauses beside her to squeeze her hand briefly, and she decides that now is as good as a time as any to tell him. She swallows hard, steeling herself to face his reaction. "We need to move pretty quickly once you are dressed. We've got a 6:30 flight."

He stops in his tracks. "Flight! What?"

"I'm bringing you home with me." She rises and steps squarely before him, her small hands resting on his arms, her eyes looking up into his. He says nothing staring at her, trying to process everything, still shocked that she is even here standing in front of him.

"I'm going to London?" He doesn't explode with anger as she had anticipated but asks the question in a flat, emotionless voice.

"You and little D." She answers calmly. "I packed you a bag from here but if there are things you need from the house, we can go there after we get Deanna."

He does explode at this - just the mention of the sunny house on the outskirts of LA bringing a sharp pain.

"No. I can't go back there." He steps back and away from her. "I haven't been back since . . ."

A wave of exhaustion washes over him. It is too early for all this. He's barely been awake twenty minutes; its the first time he's been completely sober in days. He had forgotten how completely exhausting fighting with her was. She's worn him down. He runs a hand over his head completely exasperated.

"I can't go. There's no way I could . . ." He shakes his head at her. "It would just be running away."

"As opposed to sitting here drinking while your sister-in-law raises your daughter?"

Her words are sharp and he remembers now why they survived so long working side-by-side. She was as sweet and feminine as any woman he'd ever known, but she was tough too. She was tougher than him - something that he'd always suspected, but now found to be glaringly true in the light of recent events. As far as he knew, she had never fallen down inside of a bottle trying to forget.

"You don't got to baby me, McCall. I mean, don't pull your punches or anything." He says sarcastically.

"I never have." Which is true, but he can see she feels guilty about it. Sighing she continues. "Rick, I'm not leaving you all alone here. I am not." Her voice is firm and he recognizes the tone. There's no way she'll budge. "Unless you want to call Alex and explain to him that his baby is going to be born in LA because you are too damn stubborn to get on a plane, I suggest you just give in and go."

"It won't solve anything."

"It solves me being worried about you." She says stepping closer to him again. "You could use a break, Rick. It would be so good to be somewhere where you aren't constantly surrounded by reminders. Just come home with me. It's a big house, and I swear I'll leave you alone."

"You've never once left me alone."

"Hey, you are just as bad." She points out to him and he remembers all the times, he's forced her to accept his help. His eyes lock onto hers, and she can probably tell that he is already wavering.

"I already bought the tickets. Go take a shower."

"It would be a mistake. I know what you are trying to do. But I'm not good around people right now."

"You've never been good around people. And I'm not people. You are coming home with me. The guest suite is ready. Alex set up AJ's old crib. So, quit arguing. You know I'm right."

Part of him wants to say yes. He wants to allow himself to fall into her arms and weep all the bitter tears locked inside him, but he is terrified. She has pushed him into a corner, and he recognizes that he is going to have to tell her the truth; she won't accept any excuses. Frustrated and ashamed, he hangs his head and confesses in a whisper, "You don't understand. I don't want to do anything but drink and forget."

"I don't understand? You really think that?" Her voice is soft and compassionate, and he realizes that it wasn't revelation to her. She already knew; known how far he's fallen and yet here she stands loving and accepting even still. "Rick, I just might be the only one who understands." She rubs his arm gently. "Let me do this, please? I won't go back home without you. I'm not leaving you alone. You need your family, now."

He is silent, unable to respond, overwhelmed with emotion. He knows he's lost, but fighting with her was almost always a losing proposition. She was completely impossible from the very first day he met her. He swallows hard, and drawing in a deep steadying breath, decides that his only way out is teasing her.

"What about Jody?" He asks with a grin and she laughs remembering the time she met his stiff and formal sister-in-law.

"Real family, Rick. Someone who can see past all the things you do to convince people you are a jerk." She glances at the clock. "Go on. Deanna's waiting."

"Fine." He rises quickly and frustrated with her stubbornness, storms up the stairs. He pauses a moment at the top, and looks down at her.

"You're a real pain in the ass, McCall."

"I missed you, too, Hunter."