A/N

This chapter is dedicated to guest, who's high-key wishing for more. 😊 The main reason this chapter has taken so long is not because I lost interest, it's just that I keep getting it wrong and even now I'm not sure it works. It feels so jumpy. At the same time, the very core of this is Blake's emotional state, she is supposed to be upset and moody, so maybe it does work after all.. uh, just bear with me, okay? 😉

They got a table in the far corner of the restaurant, which Blake was very grateful for. She hadn't bothered redoing her makeup and she was in jeans and a sweater rather than her usual pantsuits, so she was certain she looked misplaced next to Rossi. As long as he didn't disapprove of being seen with her when she looked this unpolished, she supposed she was okay with it, but that didn't mean she wanted to be on display for anyone who happened to walk into the restaurant.

"I'm guessing you could use a drink," Rossi said once they were seated.

"Oh you have no idea!" Blake replied. "I'm not sure I should, though."

"Why not?"

"If there's one thing I've learned over the years, it's that alcohol only tends to enhance the mood you're already in."

"Well then, let's change your mood," Rossi said. Blake smiled weakly.

"I'm not sure that's possible right now."

"We can try. And put a limit on the alcohol intake for good measure."

Blake nodded. That she could go along with. One drink, and one attempt to change her mood.

"Okay."

"So, what will you have?"

"Bourbon. No water, no ice. I'm not exactly celebrating," she said.

After ordering their drinks, they sat in silence as they waited, but it wasn't an uncomfortable silence. Rossi pretended to look through the menu, but it was mostly so Blake wouldn't feel like she was under scrutiny. She in turn looked out the window, trying to sort her thoughts and emotions under proper labels so she'd be able to communicate them without sounding like a hysteric. When the drinks arrived, she thought she might be capable of talking about matters without yet another breakdown.

She took a sip of her bourbon, put the glass down, took a deep breath, and cut right to the chase.

"James told his girlfriend that he's a widower. So, apparently, I'm dead to him," she said.

Rossi winced. She felt a sliver of bitter satisfaction from his response.

"Also, he's going to drag lawyers into our divorce because, listen to this, he wants the house!" She laughed in disbelief. "He has nothing in DC, but he still wants to throw me out of my home!"

"Is it out of spite?"

Blake was caught off guard. She had merely assumed it was, but if spite was his goal, there were better cards to play. Besides, if James was serious about wanting to cut ties with her and be with Ashley, he wouldn't want anything to keep him tethered to DC.

"I… don't know."

Rossi let her ponder it for a moment before gently urging her on.

"Do you want to keep the house?"

"Yeah." She scoffed. "Even more so now that I know he's willing to fight over it. He's not walking away from this with anything that's not exclusively his property."

"Now there's the Alex I know and love," Rossi said. "The one who doesn't give up."

He didn't notice his own wording, but Blake did. She was, after all, a linguist. The idea of being loved by David Rossi was a pleasant one, even if the words were spoken in a friendly rather than romantic way. It was also the last thing she should be thinking about right now; she needed romance about as much as she needed the bubonic plague, and she took another sip of her drink as if to wash the very thought of romance away.

"Do you know any good lawyers?" she asked, half joking. Rossi looked serious when he replied:

"Oh yeah, several. Unfortunately, divorce has been something of a speciality of mine."

Blake bit her lip.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to…"

"Don't worry about me. It's in the past. Listen Alex, if you want to keep the house, you're going to keep the house. Like I said, I know several good lawyers. They'd love to chew him up and spit him out."

"I'm not sure I could afford your lawyers, though," Blake said. "We're not exactly in the same tax bracket, you and I."

"I'm going to help you out with this, whether you want me to or not," Rossi replied.

"I can't ask you to do that," she said.

"You're not asking, I'm offering. Actually, I won't take no for an answer."

"Only if we call it a loan. And I'll repay every single penny."

"If that's what it takes," Rossi said, knowing he wouldn't accept a single penny. He would have helped any of his friends if they were in the same pickle, of course he would – he firmly believed that if you don't share your wealth once you have it, you never deserved it in the first place – but for some reason, it was different when it was Blake. She was nowhere near a damsel in distress, but she still brought out the knight in him.

He got a brief image of him and James duel over her and told himself to knock it off. Blake hardly needed a knight to save her. She needed a friend to help her out, period. He'd better keep that in mind and refrain from doing anything that she might see as taking advantage of her vulnerability.

"Thank you, Dave," she said quietly. "I appreciate it more than you'll ever know."

"I'm just happy to help," he said.

The waitress appeared next to their table and asked if they were ready to order. Rossi sent Blake an inquiring glance, and she nodded. Only a few hours ago she had believed she would never regain her appetite, but now it dawned on her how hungry she was. She decided to go ahead and order that steak Rossi had suggested earlier, along with fries and green beans, and it turned out Rossi had the same order in mind.

When the waitress left them again, Blake chuckled to herself and shook her head.

"Something funny?" Rossi asked.

"Yeah. No."

"You are very precise and to the point today," he joked.

"It's not funny, exactly… it's more tragicomical. It just struck me that James would have serious issues with this order."

"How so?"

"He's a vegetarian, and he keeps trying to guilt-trip me into becoming one as well. I mean, I know it's healthy and better for the environment and all, but I need meat. I get sick if I go completely without, but he refuses to believe me."

"Good thing I'm not James, then," Rossi said. "One of my ex-wives wanted to turn me vegetarian, too. She was concerned about my health, at least that's what she said… although sometimes I wonder."

"I think James just thinks it's disgusting," Blake said, shrugging. "I bet one reason he got together with Ashley in the first place is because she's easier to control. I've never met her, but… she's 24 years old and his intern. She would probably do anything he says to please him. He likes to feel important. He likes to tell people what to do."

She smiled. It was like watching a ray of sun shine through dark clouds.

"I guess I didn't feed his ego enough."

"Good," Rossi said with emphasis, and Blake's smile turned into a sincere laugh.

The food arrived and they let conversation rest for a while. Rossi was relieved to see that her appetite was back – he had noticed that she didn't eat well during their latest case, but he chalked it up to the heat in California.

Meanwhile, Blake had returned to the question about why James was so hellbent on getting the house. She turned it over in her mind, dissecting it, and suddenly said:

"If he's not trying to mess with me, it must be the money. That house is worth quite a lot."

Rossi had already arrived at this conclusion, but didn't want to be the one to say it. She had a lot of emotional angles to work her way through before she could see it objectively, but it was better if she figured it out on her own. Plus, he didn't want to sound patronising.

"It's a possibility," he said.

"But why would he need money?" Blake mused, mostly to herself. "He makes more than I do." A thought struck her. "Oh God, I hope he didn't get her pregnant!"

This possibility had passed Rossi by unnoticed, but before he could say anything, Blake argued against her own concern;

"No, not likely, if he got another woman pregnant he would brag to me about it. There is no way he would try to keep it from me."

"Why is that?"

Blake looked up in surprise, as if she had forgotten that he was there.

"Um… that's… not something I want to talk about now," she said, avoiding eye contact. "But the bottom line is, no, he wouldn't go to lengths trying to hide that from me. It's something else." She paused. "Dave?"

"Yes?"

"This stays between us, okay?"

"Absolutely."

She chewed her bottom lip for a few seconds. Rossi had seen her do this a couple of times before, mainly when watching an interrogation. It was a tic that seemed to indicate that she was unsure what to believe and it frustrated her.

"Alright. I've just… never told anyone about this before."

"If it's hard for you, you don't have to."

"I know. But… it feels like part of me needs to tell someone. I haven't had many sympathetic listeners in my life. Not since I lost my brother Danny, anyway. I'm usually the one people tell their secrets to because I'm good at keeping them, but I'm not as good at sharing my own."

She looked behind her to make sure nobody was within earshot, but lowered her voice either way, just in case.

"I had two early miscarriages. The baby I did carry full term passed away at nine. He had a neurological disease so rare there wasn't even a name for it. Do you have any idea what it's like to fight against an invisible, nameless enemy?"

"No. I'm so, so sorry, Alex." He reached out and touched her hand in a heartfelt but insufficient attempt at comfort. She seemed grateful for the attempt, at least.

"I know James is blaming me for Ethan's death. He resents me for it."

"You can't know a thing like that."

"Oh, yes I can. He told me so himself, right after the funeral. And… I guess I blame myself, too. Maybe there is something wrong with me. Maybe I shouldn't even have tried to pass my genes on. Nature sure seemed determined not to let me."

"Or maybe," Rossi said, "it was just one of those terrible things that happen, that's nobody's fault. Some things just happen for no reason. There is no cause and effect behind them. Nowhere to place the blame."

She swallowed and blinked away tears.

"I told myself I wasn't going to cry again," she said and wiped her eyes with the napkin.

"If you do, you probably need to. It's alright, Alex. I don't judge."

She somehow managed to push back the tears this time, though. The subject was too personal, she wasn't willing to share the tears spawned by this grief with anyone else. It was hers, and hers alone. She sniffed and cleared her throat.

"Anyway. If James got another woman pregnant, he would rub it in my face, not keep it a secret," she abruptly finished and downed the last of her bourbon. "I think you got more than you bargained for. I'm sorry."

"No, Alex, don't apologise, none of this is your fault."

"I'm not so sure about that, but thank you for trying. I'm going back to my room now," she said. "Go back to the others. Work on the case. I'll be fine."

Maybe, but the way her voice thickened as she spoke, he suspected she was fleeing to her room to let those tears out. But he also suspected that they had built up over many years and it was about time she got them out of her system so she could move on. He had never seen Blake show emotions until today, and it seemed like she had no safe zone in her own home either. How many years' worth of pain was bottled up behind the indifferent mask he saw every day? He had a feeling it was a lot.

He stood up and gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze.

"I'll check in on you later, okay?"

She had to resist a sudden urge to walk into his arms and ask him to hold her, let all his kindness envelop her like a blanket, but the idea of asking for sympathy – even when it was so clearly presented to her – frightened her, and she only nodded and pulled loose.

Rossi's heart ached for her, but there was nothing more he could do at the moment.

On his way back to the station, he called his lawyer and left a message. James was going to pay dearly for what he had done to Alex, he was going to see to that much, at least.