A/N: This one picks up where the last one left off...

Chapter 4: Overnight

The next day when Allyson climbed into her car to drive over to Tim's apartment for their dinner date, she tossed an overnight bag into the passenger seat, something she had never done before. Tim continued to offer—and occasionally tried to coax her—to stay the night when she went over, despite her steadfast refusal to do so until her decision was no longer motivated by fear. After the previous night's revelation, though, she knew that if he offered tonight she would be free to accept, and wanted to make sure she was prepared.

She sped quickly through the streets, glancing at the clock as she pulled into the parking lot in front of his building. She was early and he was still at the lab, but she knew he was due to punch out soon. Grabbing her overnight bag, she let herself into the main door using the key he'd given her, another first, and hopped up the steps until she reached the correct floor. Rounding the corner as she'd done many times before, she found his door easily and turned the key in the lock.

Stepping into the familiar apartment, she immediately felt herself begin to relax. She smiled brightly as she moved into the living room, dropping her overnight bag on a chair on her way to the kitchen to look for a snack. Rummaging through the refrigerator, she spied the leftover Chinese takeout they had shared for dinner a few days before.

"I bet this is what he's going to 'cook'," she chuckled. "But at least I know he has a backup plan in case he actually is going to cook."

Grabbing an apple and making her way back to the living room, she dropped onto the couch and flipped on the TV, waiting contentedly for Tim's return.

Tim glanced ruefully at his watch, wondering if Allyson was waiting for him in the parking lot outside his apartment or if she had gone back to her empty house to watch TV alone. He was standing on an MDPD boat, the darkness of the night cut only by the floodlights affixed to the pilothouse, his thoughts periodically interrupted by Eric surfacing from his underwater search.

"How long does it take to find a gun?" Tim muttered, fidgeting with the sleeves of his coveralls. It was the one crucial piece of evidence their most recent case was missing. Once they had it in hand, they could log it in, lock it up at the lab, and head home for the night.

A rush of water sounded from about twenty feet away and Tim looked over to see Eric swimming toward the boat.

"Tell me you found something," Tim begged wearily.

Eric removed his goggles and mouthpiece, shaking the water out of his ears. "I found something alright," he told his colleague, dropping an object onto the deck of the boat.

Tim bent down and examined it closely for a moment. When he realized what it was, he huffed an impatient sigh and stood, tossing the object into the reject pile. "This is the fifth cell phone you've found tonight."

"I know," Eric replied, wrinkling his nose.

Tim's arms folded over his chest. "You're supposed to find the gun."

Eric chuckled, pulling his goggles back over his eyes. "I know that, too."

It was several more hours before Tim slowly climbed the stairs to his apartment, pushing the door open tiredly and dropping his keys and wallet on the nearest table. His gun and badge followed, his boots the next casualty, tossed in a pile next to the door with his motorcycle helmet.

Sighing heavily, he turned away from the door, thinking how great a hot shower would feel after being out in the swamp all night. He stopped only a few steps into the room, though, when he caught sight of the overnight bag on the chair. Moving more quietly, he crept further into the living room, his eyes sweeping over the couch where he found a sleeping Allyson curled up in front of the television.

She's here?

Kneeling down beside her, he ran a hand gently over her arm. "Ally…" He was rewarded with a pair of bright blue eyes blinking back at him a moment later. Brushing a stray lock of hair from her face, he trailed his thumb softly across her cheek. "Hey…is everything okay? Did you have a nightmare? Did something happen at the house?"

She studied his face, a smile forming on her lips. "No," she answered sleepily, her heart warming at his touch. "I'm fine…everything's fine." A yawn escaped from her mouth and she covered it, stretching her arms a little in the process and taking his hand in one of hers. "I just missed you," she explained simply. "The house seemed so empty—not scary or oppressive or threatening…just lonely. So I decided to stay here and wait for you instead of going back home."

He smiled a small smile, more than a little amazed that she had waited so long merely for his company, even at this stage in their friendship. "You waited for me here."

"Yeah." She yawned again and sat up, releasing his hand and stretching once more. "I thought you'd be home earlier."

He pressed his lips together and dropped down onto the couch beside her, exhaling sharply. "I was supposed to be. But instead I spent five hours on a boat in a swamp looking for a gun."

"That explains the smell," she chuckled, touching her forehead to his shoulder.

"At least it wasn't a dumpster this time…or worse."

Her chuckle grew as she lifted her head. "And thank God for that." She patted his knee and rose to her feet. "I'll let you get cleaned up, and I know you're going straight to bed after that."

He stood, too. "You're not going home, are you?"

"I need to get to bed, too," she reminded him, glancing at the clock on the entertainment center, "and it's not like I live that far away."

"Yeah, but I don't want you driving this time of night with all the crazies," he replied quickly. "You're already here, and you brought your stuff with you for tomorrow this time…you might as well stay." She opened her mouth to speak but he continued before she got the chance. "And don't think you're sleeping on the couch either," he told her firmly. "That thing'll kill your back—I'm surprised you're not sore already."

She hefted her overnight bag from the chair she had left it in and raised an eyebrow at him. "So you're going to sleep on it instead?"

"No," he responded matter-of-factly. "Because if I'm out here—given our previous pattern at your place—you'll be out here at some point, too. So," he slid a hand into place on the small of her back and steered her toward the hallway, "you can go get changed and crawl into bed, and I'll be there in a few minutes."

Fifteen minutes later Tim entered the bedroom, freshly showered and clad in a clean pair of plaid pajama pants and a well-worn t-shirt. Allyson was already sleeping soundly in his bed, buried under the covers because he had cranked up the air conditioner, remembering her penchant for sleeping in the cold. She was lying on her side, her long hair splashed across the pillow, a pale hand clutching the comforter under her chin, her face tranquil in unconsciousness. Pausing a moment, he stood in the doorway and just looked at her, allowing his eyes to take in every detail of her sleeping form.

Maybe I didn't come into her life in the most positive way, but I am the luckiest man on earth to be a part of it now.

He smiled softly to himself and climbed into bed, careful not to disturb her peaceful slumber but unable to entirely resist physical contact with her. His lips found her forehead in a gentle kiss before he settled in beside her. "Good night, Ally."

When Tim awoke the next morning, he was greeted with a familiar yet unexpected scent. It wasn't fruity or perfumey, nor was it sweet or spicy, but it was distinctly feminine and immediately comforting. He found himself smiling and reaching for its source, discovering her lying mere centimeters from him. Her hand rested on his chest, her forehead positioned against his shoulder as though she were unconsciously nuzzling him the way she often did when she was awake.

His smile widened and he brushed a wayward lock of hair from her eyes. What a nice way to wake up.

His movement roused her from the last tenets of sleep, and Allyson's eyelids fluttered open. Recognizing Tim, her lips curved into a smile to match his.

"'Morning," he murmured, his voice deep with morning gruffness.

"'Morning," she returned softly.

"Sleep okay?" he asked.

She nodded into the pillow. "Your bed is softer than mine…" Her voice trailed off as she noticed how close she was to him and where her hand had come to rest. "…and I guess I got pretty comfortable."

"That's a good thing, though, right?" he asked her, clasping her hand against his chest. "That you can come over here and be this comfortable?"

"Of course," she affirmed. "I slept so much better last night here next to you than I have since…well, since our week on the couch when I moved into the house." A sheepish expression crept over her features. "But I guess I forgot to mention the fact that I'm a bit of a cuddly sleeper. The couch was one thing—it's so narrow—but it didn't occur to me that I'd be so cuddly in your bed, too." She grinned merrily. "I guess you're lucky you didn't wake up with me draped all over you."

"I wouldn't have minded if you had," he confessed, feeling warmth rising in his cheeks. "I have to admit, I slept a lot better with you here last night, too." He pulled her closer to him and wrapped an arm around her, contentment swirling through him when she responded by laying her head on his shoulder. "And, for the record, I fell asleep over there," he told her, gesturing to the empty space next to him. "So apparently I'm a cuddly sleeper, too."

She laughed lightly at his use of her terminology. "There's a word I would have bet money you'd never use."

"What?" he asked innocently. "'Apparently'?"

She grinned into his chest. "You're such a smartass, you know that?"

"Yeah," he replied, drawing out the word as his fingers slid through the curls down her back. "It's one of the things you love about me."

She responded by planting a warm kiss on the material of his shirt. "You know I do."

His heart swelled in direct proportion to the widening of the smile on his face as he searched for a reply. Unable to find adequate words he tightened his arms around her and nuzzled her cheek, his eyes closing blissfully when she nuzzled back.