Here's round two folks. I hope you all enjoy it. Please Review!

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"You're gonna leave me again?"

"Never."

-Million Dollar Baby

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They didn't exactly make up. It was more like a tolerance, or a peace treaty of some sorts.

And he fucking hated it.

The kind of fight you and your parents have, and then to keep the peace when you sort of all sit together afterwards.

In a room.

Real quiet like.

Then someone sees a commercial on TV and mentions something like, "Oh, I can't wait to see that movie," and everyone else in the room murmurs or mumbles, "Yeah," or "Mmm," to keep the peace.

A completely awkward silence.

Fuck.

After she had thrown her rings, he knew it was serious. Well he kind of knew before that considering they hadn't talked or touched in a week. He knew she was pissed beyond pissed. Kind of like a Julie Cooper-I-Married-For-Money-And-Now-The-Guy-Is-Poor type pissed. A pissed off level that he didn't even know how to react to.

A level of pissed off he hadn't seen in years.

He froze.

Had something changed between them? Something was off, and he didn't know what… Were they growing apart? They weren't turning into one of those married couples who simply live together, kind of like brother and sister, were they?

Suddenly Sandy gasped for air as he took a look at the perspective of their relationship.

They couldn't be growing that far apart, could they? Not like totally ending, I-want-a-divorce-part?

'No, even if she wants it, she's not getting it,' he shook his head adamantly. It was out of the question and he wouldn't do it. He would not let his wife go like that, not after everything they had been through. Even IF it came down to that, he would simply sit on the couch and listen to her screw some other guy in what used to be THEIR bedroom. His tears rolling down his cheeks and drinking something, probably tequila as he listened to her cries, while choking on his own, as his life was slowly ending one moan at a time.

'NO! NO, NO, NO! STOP THINKING THAT! STOP!' Now someone in his head was angry, as the visuals of Kirsten screwing someone else popped into his head like spontaneous balloons.

No, It was simply a rut or a test as he had put it earlier.

He paused as he hoped she might be coming out of the shower and to bed, where he was finally allowed. He needed to see her, to just look at her in her own splendid wonder and think gratefully to himself that she was his.

That thought led to another which had taken place long ago, where back in college when they were in that puppy-love – I-cant-get-enough-of-you stage. The times where his own jealousy had kicked in when he watched as she talked to other guys, almost flirtsy like before she saw him. She would say her goodbye to whoever it was and walk over to him, giving him this huge kiss, making a big deal out of him. And when he wouldn't respond like she wanted him to she would always manage to make her way along his neck and whisper "Stop being jealous, I'm yours." Then he would have to walk to class with his books in front of him but that was all right because she was his and that's where she wanted to be.

He shook his head, a small grin on his face. Things weren't like that as of late.

Hell, he may as well have had an affair with Rebecca with the way she was acting. Her attitude had cooled off a little and she actually spoke to him more in the past two hours than in the past week. And what the hell was up with the woman and R's in his life, Rachel, Rebecca… he didn't fully understand that coincidence. Whatever it was they sure put a strain on his marriage.

After he held her for a few moments, and kissed her for the first time in a week, she sighed and told him she was going to go take a shower. She looked weary, worn out and tired. If it had been any other time he would have asked if she wanted company.

Right now he knew she didn't. This was her alone time, her time to think and to process.

And to cry.

She was probably crying right now, wondering where exactly she had gone wrong. He sometimes wondered if she ever wished she had married Jimmy Cooper instead of him, and what their life might have been like. They would have been rich, Orange County's finest, and he might have read about her taking part of her father's company, or Jimmy and his great job and such, maybe he would have seen them on the news here and there. He knew Jimmy wouldn't have stolen from clients, he knew that for sure.

His face was grim, as he was deep in thought.

Kirsten and Jimmy, having their own little fun time together, laughing, smiling, raising happy, healthy rich kids, not adopting attitude ridden ones, or having their own run away.

Maybe her and Jimmy would have bought their kids little BMW's every few years and the kids could have gone off to some rich college and blown their money in partying. Yet still they would manage to make Mom and Dad proud by getting that degree from Harvard or Yale, graduating top dog of their class. And maybe Jimmy and her might have taken a cruise every few weeks because - well that's what super rich people do- they spend money like most people go through toilet paper. Sandy knew that together Kirsten and Jimmy would have more money in the bank than the whole state of California had in income taxes. And her father would have liked Jimmy. He always had.

Instead of Kirsten putting up with his shit and his attraction to help those in dire need like the PD's office, or Rebecca she would be off and out with Jimmy. He shook his head as if trying to rid himself of the very thought of her marrying Jimmy.

Then he had to wonder to himself, who exactly would he have married, if anyone at all and would he even loved them like he loved her?

Kirsten with Jimmy or Kirsten with someone else? 'No, no,' he told himself. It was something he didn't want to think about. If he didn't have his wife, who would? What if she married someone who abused her, or hit her, or ignored her?

'Like you have been doing?' His guilty conscience reminded him of his own wrong doings.

He sighed and changed his clothes into his normal sleepwear, a red flannel pair of boxers and an old beat up, but soft T-shirt that said BRONX, NY across the front of it. He glanced out his window and saw the lights of the pool house turn out which meant Ryan was going to bed. As he walked out and down the hallway he watched his other son give him a half smile and a small wave as he ducked into the sanctuary of his own room.

Well, now that he knew where the boys were he may as well head to bed himself.

Hearing the shower still screaming at him at full blast he sighed wearily and pulled the covers back, grateful as the comfortable mattress came up and molded to achy body. He missed his bed.

He missed his wife.

It was suddenly silence of the shower as he heard the squeak from the knob as she turned off the hot water. For some reason the cold water never squeaked, but the hot did.

He listened, the bathroom door was cracked and the only light entering their dark room was from there. In his mind he could see her towel drying her rosy pink colored body off, first her face, and then the small shoulders, followed by her arms, the towel tracing her collarbone like a kid coloring, quick and hasteful, yet deliberately slow as so not to miss anything. Down her thin stomach, over the powerful rise of her hips to follow the trail down her long graceful legs. Then she would wrap that damp towel around her, use another towel so she could dry her hair, and apply all sorts of feminine products and lotions that would make her smell irresistible to him.

She was irresistible without all that smelly stuff.

He heard her brush her hair and then her teeth before shutting out the light and wondering into the dark room.

"Damnit Sandy," she muttered, sounded more pissed off then usual. He always shut the light off, leaving the bedroom in darkness. Most nights she didn't mind.

Then he remembered yet again, this wasn't most nights.

For a second he wanted to giggle like a kid and to pull the blanket up over his head and hide, laughing to himself. But he didn't, he remained completely still and watched her, as his eyes had long ago adjusted to the dark.

She stood paused in the bathroom doorway, concentrating on the windows, knowing as soon as she let her own eyes adjust she could see and make her way about the room.

He watched as she did so and went to her dresser.

"Don't," he barely whispered as she whipped around. If he could have seen her eyes they were simply on fire.

"Don't what?" She softened her voice for the simple fact if she spoke like normal he would have been able to tell she cried her eyes out like a baby in the shower. 'He probably knows anyway.'

"Just come to bed, just like that, please," he pleaded to her. 'Please, please come to bed Kirsten.'

She shot him a dirty look in the dark that he didn't see and grudgingly did what he asked, as she unconsciously tightened the towel around her naked body.

As she eased herself into their bed, almost feeling awkward to be caught in a towel with her husband beside her fully clothed. She rested on her back and stared at their ceiling.

Of course Sandy would want to make love and of course she wouldn't want to right now.

She just didn't feel, right? She couldn't explain it. She thought that she was just still too angry to do so. Just because they had yelled at each other and gotten some of the things bothering them off their chest didn't exactly mean everything was back to normal.

He must have sensed the tension in her body and in her brain because he backed off his approach like female lions back off attacks on the their approaching pray.

Instead he rolled on his side and gazed at her, his eyes roaming her moonlight silhouetted body. Her hands were behind her head, her wet hair danced around her shoulders and pillow, almost guarding her. The white towel was snug against her body and could be seen rising with each breath she took.

He couldn't stop his hand as it reached out and placed itself on the vanilla soft skin of the underside of her arm. He didn't see the look in her dark blue eyes as they yelled, 'What the fuck are you doing, DO NOT touch me!' to him. Instead he watched as she licked her lips, sighed softly and turned towards him.

She surprised him when she propped herself up on her elbow and gazed back at him, the fire and fiery gazes gone. Her look this time was simply wondrous. It was really the only way to explain it. Her eyes were alight and her pupils open and dark, the coloring of her eye almost gone and she gave off the look a small child did when they were shown something amazing.

Her eyes roamed everything, never missing one little detail. She watched as his thumb barely moved across her skin, she watched as his eyes met hers and looked away guiltily like he had eaten all the cookies in the jar and wouldn't fess up to it. She didn't miss that in the moonlight the gray in his hair shimmered and the black almost had a blue tint to it. She didn't miss that he almost looked sad for once. Maybe lost was a better explanation for it.

She gave him a small smile before reaching out with her other than and placing it across his fuzzy cheek, listening as her hand rasped beneath his stubble. Her eyes were drawn to her wedding band as it caught the moonlight and it sparkled with every mustered ounce of brilliance it still had.

His own hand reached up and covered hers as it rested against his heated cheek. He was almost blushing in the dark. It was the way she was looking at him and her physical touch, or the lack of from the past week that made him as flustered as he was. He was positive that if he had been standing at that very moment he would have fallen over, too weak in the knees to stand.

"Sandy. I'm only going to say this once. You can fight with me all you want, but this is it. There is no more Rebecca, Sandy. You will not see her anymore. As far as I'm concerned she can stay in that little hotel room till she turns blue in the face. But she will not be seeing my husband and that's final. You can call her and tell her this, or I'll gladly go over there and tell her, but I will not go through this again." Her voice might have been soft, but her words were strong and they spoke force when they needed to. He thought that she had said "Gladly" with more excitement then she had intended to.

He knew that was all she had thought about in the shower, how to broach this subject with him.

Then she corrected herself. "We, will not go through this again. I can't be second Sandy, and I won't be."

He nodded and kissed her palm gently. "I'll never let you feel that way again, I promise." This time when he reached out for her, she let him. Maybe it sealed the idea in her mind that he just might have missed her too, as this past week far to long for both of them. Or maybe it was the sincerity in his voice and the way he closed his eyes and trembled at her touch that forced her granite wall to fade away slightly.

She had missed him, too, immeasurably so.

Her towel managed to fall off by the time she moved across the space between them. This time, her body was yelling to her brain "Fuck youuuuu and your emotional problems!" And she decided to listen to it instead.

He didn't dare let his hand slip under the covers, but he did move so that was he was closer to her. He watched as she tugged the damp towel away from her gorgeous body and tossed it somewhere on a nearby floor listening as it landed with a dull tha-wump!

Her hands immediately went up underneath his T-shirt against his warm bare skin and caused him to shiver. Her touch was exhilarating and cold, and the mixture of both caused her to smile at his reaction.

"Off," she whispered as she tugged impatiently at his shirt and boxers and off they went, flying somewhere over by the dead towel. The covers slid down his body as he took off his boxers.

"Kirsten, it's cold," he shivered and his teeth chattered as she watched his body tremble from the cold air as it brushed by his exposed skin. The air conditioner kept the room chilly and that was the way they both liked it, warm bed, and cold room. It was easier to snuggle that way.

Goosebumps were all over him by the time she pulled the covers and herself on top of him. She smiled a lazy grin, watching in amusement as he closed his eyes, thankful for the warmth, which wasn't much warmth at all because her body was still cool from the damp towel.

His soft hands went to her back, one down at the lower part of her spine, before the gentle rise of her hips, while the other went up towards the tender shoulder blades, below her neck.

His eyes were closed as he shivered again and she almost giggled. His hands roamed over her smooth back and she kissed him deeply before moving her head down to his chest, enjoying his closeness and the safety of his deep embrace. It was an odd feeling what she had now, compared to what she had felt only moments earlier. It was if a switch had been flicked on and she couldn't get enough of him. Kissing Sandy was always perfect, and it was something she loved doing, his lips soft and inviting, his tongue swirling around hers with a slow passion.

She tightened her embrace around him and he did the same, probably feeling her body tremble, as she felt scared for no real reason. She closed her eyes as the sudden warmth of his body and his heavy heartbeat against her ear made her drowsy.

"Hon?" he whispered sleepily.

The noise she was supposed to make was "what," but it came out more like "Mmm?"

"How disappointed are you going to be if we just sleep … for a while," he asked cautiously and slowly, as his voice held exhaustion beyond his years. He stifled a yawn. The past week had done a number on him.

She picked her head up from his chest and kissed his lips again softly, her own lingering against his. "Go to sleep Sandy," she whispered and ran her hand through his dark hair. She felt him relax entirely.

She doubted she even spoke the words before her husband was out.

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Officer Samantha Walthrop groaned in frustration, as her big bust was put on hold until late tomorrow evening, after the FBI agents or "Suits," as they were called, had flown in.

Something about evidence, court orders and something along the lines of following protocol. Not to mention the "Suits," were taking control of the case, however, she was still in on the arrest.

She could have done a cartwheel right there on the floor at the thought of arresting Rebecca, or Sandy Cohen. She would prefer Sandy, just to see the look on his ridiculously rich family's face.

How about that MasterCard? How much more priceless can you get?

Cruise, drinks not included 8,000.

Range Rover, 85,000.

Watching your lawyer husband get hauled off to jail because of Rebecca Bloom?

Priceless.

She smiled, as the saying was true, there are some things money can't buy, but for everything else there's MasterCard.

She chewed her gum happily at the thought of how much fun tomorrow evening would be.

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